To the Edge of Night
by Wordmangler
Summary: Once more hated and feared as a monster following her rampage in Vegas, Susan must fight to save a world that now hates her. With the very existence of the Monster Force and humanity in the balance, Susan will find herself tested in ways she has never been before, and must become more than she ever dreamed she could be as she and the other monsters confront foes both old and new.
1. Interview with the Giantess

**ABOUT THIS STORY:**

Welcome back to all regular readers, and a quick heads-up for anyone joining us: this story is the sequel to my previous novel, "Love I Can Possess." While it was not strictly necessary to read my first Ginormica novel, "God Help the Outcasts," before reading "Love I Can Possess," this current story will make little sense without reading "Love I Can Possess" first. It might make little sense even if you have read it, mind you... But just in case there are some daring people out there, the first chapter is designed to help remind readers what's gone before.

...

* * *

**1. Interview with the Giantess**

"That," Link said emphatically, shuddering, "was a hell of a mess."

"A gigantic snail exploding all over us? It was a bit," Susan agreed as the monsters entered the common room, now officially renamed the Monster Force Command Centre, a few days later. She inclined her head slightly, remembering, and smiled. "Still, I did get to go to Europe again. Never imagined it would be so soon. France is lovely in autumn."

"So do you prefer Paris to Rome now, my dear?" Cockroach asked from his customary position on her shoulder.

"Paris is… Paris is definitely pretty nice," Susan admitted. "But to be honest, it seems a little, I dunno…. Sterile. Cold. Doesn't have that lovely warm, slightly faded, worn-around-the-edges vibe that Rome has."

"True. And Rome was already at its peak when Paris was little more than a village," Cockroach added.

"I don't care about all that," Link told him. "All I care about is the mess. Yuck!"

"Yeah," Susan said, laughing. "All that way and we didn't even have to do anything."

"Only because the thing exploded the moment we touched it."

"Too much internal pressure. Its skin couldn't support its still-growing mass," Cockroach explained. "Oh well. The French government wasn't to know when they called us."

"And now they have enough escargot to last them the next decade," Link added with a grin as he vaulted to the living area platform.

"It glows, too," Bob added. "Does that make it escar-glow?"

Susan laughed. She sat down and let Cockroach climb onto her hand. She briefly kissed him, then set him on the living area, stroking his arm gently.

"Get a room you two!" Link called. "It was bad enough in the plane, stuck with you two mushy ex-humans. When's the wedding?"

"I keep telling you," Susan sighed with exasperation. "Not until next year. When I finally get out of this damn place."

"I thought you liked living here with us weird monsters. No?" Link asked.

"Oh, I do, of course I do," Susan said, smiling at him with genuine affection. "This place is basically heaven for me. It's the best place for someone like me, really. But I do miss my parents, and my old friends. Say, do you think the General'd let me go home for Christmas?"

"You keep asking that, Ginormica," Monger told her. "And I keep telling you, it depends. Though I can tell you that your performance in Paris was… very commendable. Good work, soldier. Good work, all of you. Now get to your quarters! There's a debriefing session at 08:00 hours a.m. tomorrow morning, before noon!"

"Sir!" Susan threw him a salute as he left, then lay back and turned the television on. She turned to the news, which was just ending.

"Recapping our main stories, there was a battle in Benghazi as crowds attacked the militia blamed for US diplomat's death; Iran's Revolutionary Guard says it expects Israel to launch a war; Pakistan is hit by deadly riots over the anti-Muslim film; President Obama provides land for construction of the new Panthalassan embassy, Earth's first alien embassy; and, on the lighter side of the news, the Monster Force gets egg—er, escargot—on its face in France."

"The lighter side?" Susan gasped, as the screen showed her standing in shock, her eyes wide in disgusted horror and her entire fifty-foot body dripping in radioactive green snail goo. "What are we—a joke now?"

"Better than feared beasts to be hunted," Link told her.

"Yeah, I know. But I wouldn't mind a _little_ more respect," Susan said, switching the news off. She sighed. "Oh well. I mean, after all the things that have happened, I guess plain old earth monsters aren't that big a deal any more."

"Not when we have alien embassies being built, no," Cockroach agreed. "I'm a monster, and I'm more interested in the aliens than us, after all—well, with one notable exception," he added, gazing up at Susan. She went slightly pink, and smiled shyly at him.

"Same here," she said softly.

Cockroach's antennae quivered.

"And I think we should be thankful, too, that we're not getting more exposure," Link interjected. "Like a lot of the recent stuff."

"You mean that I'm not," Susan corrected him. She sighed, and bit her lower lip. "Yeah. They really hate me, don't they? Now I'm a monster to them—a real monster, the scary, dangerous kind people run screaming from."

Cockroach's antennae drooped. "Yes, I know," he said softly. "The media is… capricious. They can idolise you one day, and treat you as a hated terrorist the next."

Susan bit her lip. "But… they're sorta right, aren't they? I did do those things, I am a monster. Nothing can ever undo what I did that night. I'm kinda glad I'm shut away down here, you know. I don't think I could go out in public, not here in the States at least, for a long time. I'd be too scared… afraid of how people would react when they saw me…." She trailed off, and sighed again. "I suppose Link's right. I guess I should be lucky that our first official contact with an alien civilisation is even bigger news than the aftermath of a rampaging giantess. At least the news wasn't going on about how dangerous I was for a change. It's a start, I guess."

"Unfortunately it will take more than one successful mission to redeem yourself, my dear."

Susan shook her head. "I know. I wasn't expecting it would." She sighed again. "It's going to take a lot to get people to trust me again, to stop seeing me as a monster, isn't it?"

"Yes, my dear," he told her, looking up at her fifty-foot frame sadly. "I'm afraid it will."

* * *

"Hi Amy," Susan said as the door to the common room slid open a few days later and Monger drove the young girl in. "You're early."

"School got off early today," Amy explained as she slipped out of the jeep.

"I'll be back in an hour, Miss Marshall," Monger said. "Enjoy your visit."

"Thank you General," Amy said, saluting.

"And thank you from me, too," Susan added, also saluting.

"You get one hour for visits a week, so make the most of it!" Monger called up.

"I will, sir," Susan added, looking glum.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Amy said cheerfully as Susan bent down to let the girl climb on her hand. "Whatcha doin'?"

"I was trimming my nails, actually," Susan said with a slight laugh. "It's not that easy."

"No giantess-sized nail clippers, right?" Amy said, grinning.

"Well, it's not just that, it's that my nails are really strong. The quantonium in me also affects my nails. Ordinary blades just won't cut them."

"So what do you use?" Amy asked.

"This," Susan said, motioning towards a device on the platform living area. "Something the Doc came up with."

"They're diamond-tipped osmium boride cutting blades driven by a pneumatic system," Cockroach explained.

"Whatever they are, they work like this," Susan said. She inserted a finger, Cockroach checked its position, and moved a lever. A large curved blade slowly lowered, and Cockroach checked to make sure it was aligned. Then he pressed a large green button, there was a brief hiss, and Susan's fingernail was neatly cut.

"Yikes," Amy said.

Cockroach picked up the four-inch wide clipping, and showed it to Amy. "It'll stop a bullet," he said, tapping it. "I'm researching its potential for body armour. But at this rate it will take twenty months to get enough raw material."

"Never mind that," Susan said, standing up. "We'll do the rest later, okay?"

"As you wish, my dear," Cockroach said, smiling up at her. "You enjoy your visit. Always a pleasure to see you, Amy."

Amy smiled at the scientist, then turned to Susan. "So how was Paris? I always wanted to go there. France is so cool."

"Yeah, it's pretty good," Susan admitted. "Still, one of these days I'd like to go as just a tourist, and have more time to sightsee."

"And less snail on your face," Link added with a grin, sauntering over from his pool.

"Come on Amy, let's go to my room, and I'll tell you all about France," Susan said firmly, giving Link a quick glare and holding out her hand. "Wanna quick trip to Paris? Final call for departures on Air Susan Flight 001 to Paris, France. Would passenger Amy Marshall please report to the boarding hand immediately?"

"Captain Marshall, thank you," Amy said with a grin. "I'm the pilot, and you're the plane, remember? Prepare for takeoff!" The small girl clambered onto Susan's five-foot long hand, and grabbed her middle finger. "We have liftoff!"

"That's for spaceships," Susan laughed, then lifted her hand high into the air. _I'm the plane?_ she thought to herself. She wasn't entirely sure she was happy about that, about being seen as just a piece of equipment, a tool. But Amy's laughter made her forget her concerns, as she swooped and rose, banked and turned. Having Amy around was like playing with the little sister she never had, or the child she never could have. It was a pity her visits were so infrequent.

"Did you get any photos there?" Amy asked as Susan walked carefully to her own room.

"Well, I didn't take any, but yeah, we got some great photos."

"I saw some," Amy said, and giggled.

"I bet I know which ones you saw," Susan said, trying not to grin. "Wolf News really loved that one of me covered in goop." She opened her door and gently set Amy down on her desk, then sat down on her bed next to it.

"How much did it take to get it off?" Amy asked.

"A lot of scrubbing and soap and the local public swimming pool," Susan said, and laughed. "I suppose I shouldn't complain—it was the first proper bath I've had since I became Ginormica. Mind you, it was a little on the chilly side. I had to have people pour buckets of hot water in."

"What, with you sitting there naked?" Amy's eyes widened.

"Before I got in, don't worry," Susan told her. "And I told Monger quite firmly that the Army PR department was not allowed to take any photos of me in my bath. Bubbles or no bubbles!"

Amy laughed. "I wish I'd been there. A whole bubble-bath pool! Was there a diving board? Because I'd love to be able to dive into a pool of bubbles!"

"There was," Susan said. "But as you might expect, I didn't use it," she added with a grin.

Amy looked up at the massively tall giantess. "Did you want to?" she asked.

Susan looked down at her, her face serious. She shook her head. "I'm happy with what I am, really. Yes, there is a part of me that sometimes thinks things could be easier, or more fun, if I was your size, but… but no. I'm happy being this size, being me. I wouldn't want to go back now, even if I could. It's like… it's like…."

"I guess it's a bit like being an adult," Amy suggested. "There's so many things that adults can't really do any more, but so many things that they can finally do."

"That's really perceptive of you," Susan said, nodding. "It's exactly like that. Yeah. I mean, I've definitely grown—and I don't mean physically!" she quickly added, with a short laugh. "I've matured. Or, at least, I hope I have."

Amy smiled, then took something out of her pocket and held it up. "Look what I got!"

Susan bent lower and peered at the tiny object in Amy's small hand. "A USB stick? What's on it?"

Amy grinned. "Mind if I use your computer?"

"Go ahead," Susan said. Amy moved over to the computer terminal and switched it on, then inserted the USB stick.

"Which one?" Susan asked, looking at the files in the folder that appeared.

"That one," Amy said, point as high as she could reach on the huge computer screen. "The one marked 'For Amy'."

"Oh, okay, I see it. It's a video file." Susan used her large trackball to move the cursor to the right place, and clicked the titanium lever. "I broke the old joystick," she told Amy, catching the young girl's glance. "Got a bit frustrated with Google one day, and it, er, snapped right off." She didn't mention that she had gone through three joysticks before Cockroach had finally suggested a trackball. Normally she could control her strength quite easily, but sometimes it got away from her when she wasn't paying attention.

"What is it?" Susan asked.

Amy laughed. "Why not play it and find out?"

"Here we go then," Susan said, clicking the Play button. The file started playing, and Susan gasped. "Oh no! How the hell did you get this? They told me the interview wouldn't be shown in the States!"

"My uncle's stationed with NATO in Germany," Amy said with a huge grin as the French introduction continued. "He sent me the file when it was shown on TV there. You should have told me you were on TV!"

Susan made a slight face. "Yeah, well, it was a bit embarrassing. Two days after we stopped that snail thing, I got interviewed by a reporter, a guy called Andre, Andre… uh, Roussimoff. Or something. From some French television station I can't remember the name of. It was all in English, since my French is limited to 'Bonjour' and 'Je déteste les escargots'."

"What's that mean?"

Susan grinned. "I hate snails."

Amy laughed. "I bet I know where you learned that one! Oh, look, the English section is starting."

"Welcome to France, Mademoiselle Ginormica," the interviewer was saying in slightly-accented English.

"Thanks," Susan said in the video. "I'm glad to be here finally."

"We know you are now famous around the world, and everyone knows you," the interviewer said. "After you saved San Francisco, stopped an alien invasion, saved Rome from being overrun by a huge alien digging machine, then rescued the American President, you became an international figure."

"Uh, yes, I, er, suppose I did." Susan said, shifting her arm awkwardly. Unlike the interview she had done in Washington DC when getting the Presidential Medal of Freedom, where they had constructed a special chair for her, here she was lying on her side, putting her head at the same level as the interviewer.

"But this is all the famous things we all know," Roussimoff said. "Please, we would like to know about the real Ginormica, the real you."

"Uh, sure. What would you like to know?"

"For a start, could you explain about your name? Many French people will not understand it."

"Susan? Oh, you mean Ginormica?" Susan laughed. "Yeah. The government changed my name to that when they first captured me. We've got this word in English, 'ginormous,' which is I guess sort of like mushing up 'gigantic' and 'enormous'. It's what kids say when they want to say something is super-big."

"Like you," Roussimoff noted with a smile.

"Uh, yeah. Like me. Anyway, 'Ginormica' is sort of that word made into a girl's name."

"Do you like the name?"

"I hated it at first," Susan admitted. "The General never calls me anything but, but I insisted the other monsters use my birth name, Susan. But you know, I quite like it now. It's a part of me, part of my identity as… as what I am."

"As a monster? I'm sorry, is that term offensive?"

Susan shook her head. "No. Not to me. I guess technically I am a monster. But I'm a good monster. At least, I try to be. I want to be. We're all good monsters. A monster is just something strange and unusual, and most people are scared of strange and unusual things. So they get scared of us. But to be honest, I don't really think of myself—or any of the others—as a monster. I think of them as people, and myself as, well… just a person almost fifty feet tall."

"Not to mention a hero who saved the world, as well," Roussimoff added.

"I… I guess," Susan said, biting her lip. "I don't like to think I'm a hero though. I'm just one part of the team. We couldn't survive on our own—I couldn't survive without everyone. I learned that."

"So you were captured on your wedding day, as everyone knows, when the meteorite hit the town of Modesto, which is near San Francisco in California. Then when you were in prison you were forced to fight this giant robot by the Golden Gate Bridge."

Susan nodded.

"And that's when you first learned just how strong you were?"

"Sort of. I mean, I just thought it was a pretty weak robot at first. But then I caught that power reactor in Gallaxhar's ship. I just reacted, I didn't think. It was only later that Doc told me how much it weighed. I was… yeah, I was pretty freaked out. I had no idea I was that strong."

"Just for reference, gentle viewers, Ginormica could crush a car flat between her fingers with ease. So tell us, how did you learn to deal with this strength?"

"Well, strength isn't everything," Susan said. "Like my friend Mary used to say, power is nothing without control. I learned that the hard way." She took a deep breath. "I… I got a little egotistical. All these people telling me I was so amazing, it sort of went to my head. That affected how I treated my friends. I also had some personal problems—I felt betrayed by a dear friend, someone I had trusted completely. Then I had to stop a runaway train in Las Vegas. That didn't work out so well."

"May we show the video?" Roussimoff asked.

"Might as well," Susan said with a slight sigh. "Everyone else has seen it."

The studio monitor showed the clip of Susan standing across the rails, ready to catch the freight train carrying nuclear waste. Taken from a hovering helicopter, it showed the locomotive plough into the giantess, throwing her backwards, and then pushing her bodily along the rails. Both Susans, the one being interviewed and one watching with Amy, winced.

"I guess that hurt, didn't it?" Amy asked.

"Yeah, it wasn't fun," Susan said, just as her video counterpart said much the same.

"You redeemed yourself later, however," Roussimoff pointed out, showing a clip of Susan carrying the massively heavy lead containers the nuclear waste was stored in.

"The General was furious, though," Susan told him. "And I was pretty mad with him, too, and the other monsters as well. I guess I also felt isolated, being so big. Left out. Except for Mary."

"Mary was the English vampire?" Roussimoff asked.

"Scottish," Susan said with a smile. "She'd hate you for calling her English. Even though she sounded more English than, I dunno, the Queen of England. Yeah, she was the new monster. At first we hated each other. I thought she was a stuck-up bitch, and she just hated being a prisoner, so she hated the whole place. But then we started talking, and I found out more about her, and we just clicked. She became like a big sister to me. Oh, Mary. Poor Mary…."

"And now we come to the incident in Las Vegas," Roussimoff said quietly.

"When I ruined everything," Susan said, blinking back tears.

"Your friend Mary was killed by the police trying to escape, was she not? And then Ginormica carried out a terrible revenge on her murderers."

The studio monitor showed footage of an enraged Susan, dressed in the tattered remains of a white gown, smashing down a pedestrian overbridge in Las Vegas and throwing a van. Susan in the studio looked away, as did Susan watching in her room.

"Want me to stop it?" Amy asked, concern in her voice.

Susan shook her head. "No. It's hard to watch, really, really hard. But I can't run from it, pretend it never happened. I wish I could. I really do. But… I can't. I mustn't."

"What happened after that, however, we still know little about. You fled, then were spotted in Desert Valley by some campers, and we heard a report that you had been shrunk to your normal size."

Susan nodded. "Yeah. I panicked, and ran out to the desert so I couldn't hurt any more people, or get captured. I was so depressed. I thought I'd killed my friend by stamping on him, I was so blinded by rage. I had to get far, far away from anyone I could hurt. Then the Panthalassans, they're the aliens, of course, the same ones as Gallaxhar but not evil, found me and extracted my quantonium. Because it was too dangerous, too powerful, for me to have. And they were right. I mean, after what I'd done with it…. I was taken back home, and then, of course…. Well…. I was arrested." Susan put her hand to her mouth, and looked away.

"Are you all right?" Roussimoff asked,

Susan nodded. She took a deep breath, and carried on. "Of course I was arrested. After what I had done? I rang my uncle, who's a cop, and told him to come and get me. Because I knew I couldn't run any more. I'd been out in the desert, alone, terrified, for two nights. And I did a lot of thinking there. I realised how selfish I'd been. I was turning into a monster, a real monster."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, you look at me, and okay, you see a giant, a monster. But inside, in my heart, I'm just Susan Murphy. I'm just an ordinary American girl. But in Vegas, I became a real monster, because I didn't care about people any more, I wanted to hurt people. When I got hit with this quantonium, I was taken away from my friends and family, locked up, told I wasn't a person, that I was a monster…. And eventually… I became one. So I was glad when the aliens took the quantonium away. I didn't want to be Ginormica any more; I didn't want to be a monster."

"Yet you are a giant," Roussimoff noted. "You are still Ginormica."

Susan nodded. "When I was small, I realised that it wasn't Ginormica that was the monster, it was me. Being a giant meant I could do more damage, that's all. But the darkness in my soul, the anger, the bitterness—that was all Susan Murphy. And I hadn't realised how much Ginormica had become a part of who I was. I couldn't cut her off, I couldn't run away from her, because she was what I had become. So I had to return to my real size."

"Your real size?" Roussimoff asked, looking confused.

"This size," Susan said with a slight smile. "This is my real size now. I'll never be small again."

"Can you tell us about the crash of the alien spacecraft over Area 52?"

"Some," Susan said. "A lot of that's still classified."

The video image changed to a satellite photo of Area 52, over a large area of which was a fuzzy image of a massive crash. At the bottom was a caption that read "Image degraded for national security reasons."

"This was released by the United States Pentagon," the interviewer explained. "The image is not very clear, but shows what looks like the remains of a huge alien spacecraft."

Susan nodded. "Yeah, the flagship of the Panthalassan fleet that arrived to remove all traces of the quantonium from Earth. It was their excavator robot I had to stop in Rome. Now they wanted the quantonium we'd recovered from that robot."

"We know that the American President was involved," Roussimoff said. "Taken aboard, right?"

Susan nodded. "I can't tell you exactly why, since it's classified, but he was abducted by the aliens, and we—the other monsters, me, the General—went to get him back. We, er, installed a virus or something which disabled their ship. Only it nearly killed us all when the ship lost power."

"You saved them all, however," Roussimoff said. "Look at this, gentle viewers."

A photo flashed up on the screen. Taken by a very long lens, it showed Air Force One dangling out of the landing bay of the massive alien craft, which had tipped on its side. Susan was visible, hanging onto a strut with one hand and the aircraft with the other.

"This is you single-handedly saving the President and everyone on board the plane from falling to their deaths, right?" Roussimoff asked quietly. "And by single-handedly, I mean literally; you were lifting up the plane with just a single hand! Incroyable! Inouï!"

Susan went a little pink. "Well, it's really just a big hollow tube. And it was our fault in the first place. I mean, Doc's computer virus ended up crashing their spacecraft."

"But you saved the President, and then you saved the alien leaders left on the ship?"

Susan nodded. "Well, I couldn't let them die. Not when we'd made their ship crash. They were remarkably understanding about the whole thing, actually. I think they were just impressed that we'd managed to stop Gallaxhar."

"These aliens are the same as he is, right?"

"From the same planet, yes. But Gallaxhar was an insane power-hungry nutjob who blew up his own sun to get hold of some quantonium, and destroyed their planet. So they're really, like really, really angry with him. They were actually pretty impressed that we managed to stop him."

"It seems like, what is the English phrase? All's well that end's well?"

Susan nodded. "Well, I'm in prison now, for what I did in Vegas—only allowed out on important missions like this. But since my prison is Area 52, my home, not much has changed. So yeah, it could have been a lot worse."

"Indeed. You saved your president, and helped establish friendly relations with a powerful, advanced alien race. Once again, you have acted to help the entire planet."

Susan went pink, and bit her lip. "If you say so," she said quietly. "It doesn't cancel what I did in Vegas, however."

"But it helps, I'm sure. I hope you will be able to visit France again when you are free. And thank you very much for speaking with us here today."

"No problem," Susan said with a small smile. "Merci."

"Merci beaucoup, Mademoiselle."

The video ended, and Amy looked over at the giantess. Susan was leaning back again the wall, her arms around her knees, and her expression unreadable.

"Was it… okay?" the young girl asked, a little nervously.

Susan shrugged. "It could have been worse, I guess. I didn't want to do it, anyway. Monger insisted."

"Why?"

"He said it was about image rehabilitation. Humanizing me." She gave a short, bitter laugh. "Humanizing me. When I'm so inhuman." Susan sighed, and smiled weakly at her friend. "No, no, don't worry, Amy. I'm not angry. Not at all. Thanks for showing me the video. I just don't like being on TV. Having the world looking at me. That's the only real thing I miss about being my old size. Just be part of the crowd, comfortably anonymous."

"You don't want to go back, though, right?"

Susan quickly shook her head. "Not for a minute. I'd lose too much."

"Didn't you lose a lot to become Ginormica, however?"

Susan shook her head again. "Not lost; sacrificed."

"What's the difference?"

"Lost means you don't have something any more, and don't get anything in return either. Sacrifice means you lose something, but you get something in exchange."

"I don't follow you," Amy said, her expression confused.

"I sacrificed a normal life, but I have this life in exchange. What I am now is so much more than what I was that it's a bit petty to begrudge what I can't do any more. That's what happened earlier." Susan's face grew sad, and she bit her lip. The screams and cries of the men she had killed still appeared in her nightmares, though less so now as the base counsellor was helping her deal with them. "True, there's loss with sacrifice, and sadness, because if what you sacrifice means nothing, it's not a real sacrifice. But what you gain is stronger and better than before. I'm a better person now than I was a year ago. I'm happy with myself. I really am. Even though not everything's perfect, I'm just glad to be with my friends, and glad to be who I am. And that's all anyone can really ask of life, I guess."

* * *

**WORDMANGLER'S NOTES:**

Previous readers of my stories will know by now that I like to add endnotes to each chapter to point out the various facts I have drawn on in creating these stories. I like fiction that has a solid basis in fact, using them to built as realistic a world as I can, helping suspend disbelief and accepting Susan as a real person. Although sometimes it's just a fun quirky fact. Like the name of the French interviewer in this chapter: Andre Roussimoff is the real name of the late, great Andre the Giant, aka Fezzik in The Princess Bride. I thought it would be a nice touch for a man interviewing a giantess. Oh, and osmium boride is an ultra-hard, very incompressible material. I don't know just how strong Susan's fingernails would be, but I imagine very strong indeed, though not as strong as her bones (which readers may remember I made essentially unbreakable as one way to fanwank the square cube law). How easy is it to cut her hair, I wonder?

Other than that, there are no facts per se in this chapter. Apart from the obvious (?) riff on "Interview with the Vampire" for the chapter title. The interview format was designed as a sort of "Previously, on…" bit to remind regular readers of the situation and get new readers up to speed (new readers should ideally start with "Love I Can Possess" at the very least. Go read that now, and we'll be here when you get back).

There are a lot of fanfics here dealing with the French snail fight, and I didn't want to retread any of them, so I just made Escargantua so swollen and bloated that it exploded the moment Susan's fist contacted it. Very much an anti-climax.


	2. Some Unknowns

**2. Some Unknowns**

It was the tail end of October, and Susan was sitting on her sofa, using her huge tablet to read one of the textbooks Monger had assigned her and doing her best to make sense of it, while taking notes with a super-sized novelty pencil forty-four inches long. She was finding her confinement less annoying than she had expected, since her daily life was pretty much the same as it had been before her sentencing, but it was still pretty dull most days. Thankfully, she was not given as much time to sit around and be bored: her instructors were loading her up with masses of study about being in the military, and she was able to have weekly internet chats with her parents. The media was gradually losing interest in her rampage, and even the aliens, as nothing new was happening at the moment. And, more than anything, she was able to spend long hours with Cockroach, just talking, or holding him close. It was amazing, she reflected as she glanced over at his lab where he was busy working on some new mad experiment, how different it was just talking with him since they admitted their feelings for each other. Susan was finding out so much about his emotions, desires, and fears that she wondered how she could have ever seen him as nothing more than a cold, calculating scientist.

She was just tackling a new chapter when suddenly the common room was rocked by a loud explosion. Thick green smoke billowed down from Cockroach's lab, and was promptly sucked up by powerful extractor fans as the figure of the insect-headed scientist wobbled uncertainly out of the haze, coughing.

"What the hell was that?" Link demanded, picking himself up off the living platform floor.

"Are you all right?" Susan asked, putting down her tablet, her face worried.

"Quite fine, or at least mostly fine, my dear." Cockroach said, wheezing slightly. "I do apologize, chaps." Tottering to the intercom, he pressed the buzzer. "Tea. Earl Grey. Hot."

"And for me, too," Susan quickly added. "With milk and sugar, please!"

"Right away, sir, ma'am," the voice on the other end said.

"Seriously, Doc," Link growled. "What the hell—oh, wait. Is it that time of year again?"

"Huh? What time?" Susan asked.

"Bang-bang time!" Bob cried. "The Glorious Fifth!"

Link sighed. "Not again. Doc, will you never quit?"

"Quit what?" Susan asked. "What's the glorious fifth?"

Cockroach grinned, "Please to remember, the fifth of November, gunpowder, treason and plot!"

"Doc, dear, are you sure you're all right?" Susan asked suspiciously, wondering why Cockroach was reciting poetry all of a sudden. "What on Earth are you on about?"

"Guy Fawkes Day, my dear!" Cockroach exclaimed, his eyes shining.

Susan blinked. "What's that?"

Link laughed as Cockroach's antennae fell. "It's… it's a British thing," the mad scientist admitted. "I guess you Americans wouldn't have heard of it."

"So what is it, love?" Susan asked, her voice gentle. "I know Link doesn't care, but I do. Is it important?"

"Important?" Cockroach asked, his antennae twitching. "Well, no, not really, not as such. Not in the grand scheme of things. It's just that it was always my favourite holiday as a child."

"Only because it involves explosions," Link shot. "I keep asking ya, what's wrong with the Fourth of July?"

Cockroach waved his hand dismissively. "You don't get it, do you? The great thing about Guy Fawkes Day was it involved actual, real, almost explosions!"

"Almost explosions?" Susan asked. "Doc… Jacques, I think that bang might have affected you. You're starting to sound like Bob."

"And a good thing too," Bob added. "I was worried no one would."

"Oh, no, it takes more than that to rattle me, my dear, as you know," Cockroach said. The chime sounded and he went to the hatch, removing his cup of tea. Susan leant over and took her huge mug out and rested it on the platform floor which formed her table.

"Anyway, my dear, Guy Fawkes Day is something celebrated in Britain and its Dominions, celebrating the discovery of a plot by Papists to blow up the Houses of Parliament back in 1605. It's our big day for fireworks, like the Fourth of July is for Americans, only… better, because it involved actual gunpowder."

"So did ours," Link retorted. "When we whupped your asses at Valley Forge."

"Anyway," Susan interjected, "you have fireworks on the fifth of November then?"

"Fireworks, bonfires, burning people in effigy—it's wonderful!"

Susan blinked. "Really. Burning people…?"

"Oh, no, no, nothing macabre. Well, to tell the truth, the original Guy Fawkes was tortured, drawn, hanged, and quartered. So perhaps it was somewhat macabre..."

"I'm not sure what drawn and quartered mean," Susan said, looking faintly nauseated, "but I rather think I don't want to know."

"Trust me, you don't," Link told her. "Ignore him. It's not his English heritage at all. Doc just wants to blow things up. Every year it's the same. He spends days or weeks trying to come up with fancy ways to make things go bang, and every year Monger tells him there is no way on… on…."

"On God's green Earth," Bob said helpfully.

"Yeah, on God's green Earth that you'll ever be allowed to set off home-made or any fireworks at this base, over my cold dead hands, or something like that."

"His loss," Cockroach huffed.

"Yeah, well, I don't know why you're so worried about it," Link shot back. "Anyway, it's Halloween tonight, not this guy's forks day or whatever. Halloween, now that's _our_ time!"

"Our time? What do you mean?" Susan asked.

"Hey, what else?" Link asked, puffing himself up with pride. "It's when everyone on Earth wants to be what we are!"

"Americans?" Bob asked, and Susan giggled.

"Monsters!" Link shot back.

"There's a difference?" Cockroach muttered under his breath, sulkily sipping at his hot tea.

"Come on, Suze!" Link exclaimed. "You know what I mean! Halloween! When everyone dresses up as ghosts, goblins, witches, vampires, wolfmen, skeletons—monsters! It's our night, baby! And we gotsta terrify!"

"Actually, I always used to be a Disney princess," Susan admitted, blushing slightly.

"Ooh, that sounds really scary!" Bob exclaimed, quivering.

"I'll bet a lot of feminists agree," Link joked.

"Please, can we leave gender politics out of this?" Cockroach asked him, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure you made an exquisite princess, my love," he added, gazing up at the giant woman.

"Thanks, Jacques," Susan said, blushing pink. "I don't want to be a princess any more. That's not who I am. I know I used to like to think of myself as a fairytale princess, and that my Prince Charming would come riding up and rescue me, but now…." She sighed, remembering her dreams and hopes and how Derek had crushed them utterly.

"Now you're the one that rescues people," Cockroach assured her.

"Princess Charming!" Bob cried.

Susan laughed. "Not quite. Actually, I made a costume for the base party, before I knew we had to go to Nepal. But it's not a princess."

"What is it, my dear?" Cockroach asked.

Susan grinned. "Wait and see."

"We always have that boring base party with Monger and the senior staff," Link groused. "Glad we get to skip it this year. I just wish we could go out and scare real people. Out there, in the streets. See them run, listen to them scream…."

"Why can't you?" Susan asked. "I mean, I know I can't, I'm confined to the base save for official missions, but you're all free. Why can't you go out?"

"There is no _out_ to go to, remember," Link told her. "We're in the middle of the sodding desert. Not much trick-or-treating going on out there. And Monger won't let us borrow the plane for a trip to Vegas."

"I wouldn't want to go, even if I could," Susan said, shuddering. "I don't want to go there ever again."

"Don't worry, we're on duty tonight, remember, my dear?" Cockroach added. "We have a mission to do."

"Yeah, so we do," Susan said, cheering up. "I'm certainly looking forward to seeing the Himalayas."

"Not much trick-or-treating there either, I'll bet," Link said with a slight pout.

"Oh, Link! Well, okay, maybe we can't do that, but we can still have some fun! When we get back, why don't we have a little party here, even if it is just us? We could all dress up in our costumes, and tell scary stories, and try and scare each other."

"Well, I guess, especially if there's beer involved." Link told her. "But hey, I don't need no costume!"

"Why not? Haven't you always wanted to pretend to be something else?"

Link looked surprised. "What for?"

"Well, that's the fun of dressing up!" Susan told him. "You can be anything, anyone, you want!"

"Like… Monger?" Link asked, not sounding enthusiastic at all.

"Sure! Why not?"

"Yeah! And I'll be Elvis!" Bob said, morphing into an approximation of the singer.

"Not bad. You're getting pretty good at changing shape," Susan admitted.

"Only the King was never that round, even at his fattest," Link said, grinning.

"How about a beach ball? A soccer ball? A basketball?" Bob asked.

"Those are all the same shape," Link pointed out.

"Okay… How about a fried egg?" Bob asked, flattening himself out.

"Not very scary," Link told him.

"Ooh, ooh, how about a fried egg… with salmonella!" Bob asked, staying the same shape.

Susan giggled. "What about you, Doc—Jacques?" she asked, looking over at Cockroach.

He shook his head. "I think I'll pass, if I may, my dear. Halloween has never been my, er, favourite holiday."

"Why not?" Link asked. "What's not to like?"

Cockroach shook his head. "It's just not my, uh, cup of tea," he said, sipping at his cup of tea.

"Is it coz of your sugar habit?" Bob asked. "You can't control yourself? After that one time back in '88 when—"

"No! Well, probably not! I'd prefer not to discuss it, if you don't mind."

"We do mind," Link shot back.

"No, we do not mind," Susan retorted. "Hush, Link."

"Thank you, my dear," Cockroach said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really need to get back to work."

"Try not to blow up too much," Susan smiled, and picked up her tea. It always took longer for her drinks to cool, as there was so much more liquid in them. She blew on it gently, inhaling the rich bergamot scent.

"Ginormica, report to the Situation Room!"

Susan looked up, surprised, as Monger's voice boomed out over the PA system.

"Just me, sir?" she called out. "Aren't we all going to catch that Yeti?"

"Just get in here! On the double!"

"Sir!" Susan put her huge mug of milk tea back down on her table, and stood up.

Link gave a quick grin. "Off you go! Have fun! Your tea will be right here when you get back!"

"Fun? I doubt that," Susan said. "Back in a minute. I hope."

* * *

Susan made her way to the new Situation Room, which had been rebuilt in a chamber large enough for her to fit in. She saluted the guard and pressed her finger to the palm scanner plate, then the huge door hissed open.

"Ginormica, good, sit down," Monger called down to her from the upper level, where the main conference table was. "You remember Colonel Thaparana of the Nepalese Armed Forces?"

"Of course, Colonel," Susan said, saluting the visitor. She took her seat, which was on a lower level than the rest of the room, placing her nearer eye level with the others. "Any more details on the Yeti sighting? We're all looking forward to visiting Nepal."

Thaparana looked embarrassed. He cleared his throat, and bowed low. "I am, er, much very afraid that, ah, our intelligence was mistaken. The villagers who reported the Yeti, uh, were making their errors. It was being a large man wearing a yak fur coat."

"So, er, we won't be going anywhere after all," Monger said.

"Uh, with respect General, couldn't you have told us that in the common room—I mean our command centre?"

"Colonel Thaparana wished to apologise in person, but does not have clearance for the Monster section."

"Oh, I see. I am very grateful for your consideration, then, Colonel," Susan said, inclining her head towards the visitor in a quick bow. "Oh well. Pity we can't go to Nepal."

"It is most unfortunate that the village was not being terrorized by a monster, yes," Thaparana said.

"Never mind," Susan said with a smile. "I'm sure the villagers are happy about it."

"You are too kind." Thaparana stood and saluted them, then headed towards the door.

"At any rate," Monger said after their guest had left, "this means you lot no longer need to head to Nepal. So you have my official permission to join the party in the command centre. And tell Cockroach just because he's a free man this year there is still no way on God's green earth that I'll let him blow things up!"

"Sir!" Susan saluted with a grin, and headed back. _Oh well, I was looking forward to getting some time outside… _she thought to herself. _Well, at least I can try on my new costume_. _The others are going to love it. Especially Jacques. I think I'll do that now, and surprise him…._

* * *

The huge door hissed open as Susan entered the command centre.

"Bad news guys, that Yeti sighting was just a hoax. So we don't get to go to Nepal after all. But we have the night off, so we can stay here and have our party."

Link looked up as the fifty-foot woman stood in front of the living area, her face slightly pink. "What the hell is that?" he asked, staring at her outfit.

Susan was wearing a short pleated skirt and a midriff-baring top in the same dark grey fabric as her normal jumpsuit, with a giant 'M' emblazoned in orange across her breasts. Both her top and her skirt were ripped and liberally splattered with red, and she was carrying two huge bundles of grey and orange streamers in her hands.

"My zombie cheerleader outfit! Like my giant pompoms?" Susan did a little dance, shaking her ten-foot wide bundles of streamers. "Give me an M! Give me an O! Give me an N! Give me the stars! MON-stars!"

"Very impressive, my dear," Cockroach told her, spinning around on his chair to see her. "Um…. Very nice, er, costume…" he tailed off as Susan flounced down on her sofa, revealing all of her long powerful thighs. "Very impressive…." He swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes away. "Are we having the party after all?" he asked.

"If we have to be stuck here, I for one am going to enjoy it!" Susan said firmly. "It's better than nothing. Still…" she sighed, "I was kinda hoping to get out, even for a brief trip."

"You haven't finished your tea," Bob reminded her. "Don't worry, there's nothing in it."

"I wonder what Nepal is like?" Susan asked, not paying attention. She took a sip, and then Link suddenly burst out from the mug, roaring loudly and waving his arms. Susan shrieked and flung the mug away, throwing both the tea and the monster across the room. The mug hit the concrete wall and fell down onto the upper platform, the lower platform, Susan's couch, and then finally hit the floor with a thud. Link groaned and crawled out of the mug, staggering upright and holding his arm gingerly.

"What the hell, Link?" she gasped.

"Ow! I think I sprained something. That really hurt," he muttered, massaging his bruised shoulder and neck.

"What did you expect? What on earth were you doing?" she asked, staring at him with a mixture of anger and relief.

"I was trying to scare you."

"Well, it worked," Bob noted.

"I wasn't scared, I was disgusted," Susan quickly told them. "It was gross! How would you like it if I bathed in your food?"

"I was hiding, not bathing," Link told her, climbing slowly back up to the living area and rubbing his lower back.

"You're lucky she didn't throw you too hard, my finned friend," Cockroach said. "Or you'd be a smear on the wall right now."

"Yes, Link, you have to remember, I'm dangerous," Susan said, biting her lip. "You have to be careful. I might have really hurt you."

"Nah, don't worry about me," Link said. "And don't you worry your pretty white head about what's in the past. We all made mistakes. That's all over. Forget it. Forget them." He flexed his arm tentatively, testing the joints. "We'll have our party here, and I promise—ooh, that smarts—that we'll have a fun time!"

"Fun time's over, monsters!" Monger's stentorian bellow suddenly echoed around the huge chamber.

Susan looked around as the new presidential portrait split open and the general flew out. He headed towards the main living platform, remotely activating the command centre control bank as he did so. It rose out of the platform floor in front of Cockroach's lab as Susan's special giant keyboard rotated out from the wall beneath it.

"What is it, General?" Susan asked. "The Yeti back?"

"Gallaxhar again?" Link added.

"Are we ordering pizza?" Bob asked.

"None of the above!" Monger barked. "It's a no-go, I repeat, a no-go on Halloween! We got us a situation, and I love me a situation! A UFO has entered our airspace over California. And you ain't gonna believe where!" He gestured to the huge map of central California displayed on the screen.

"Modesto?" Susan rolled her eyes. "Why is it always Modesto?"

"I thought it was kinda freaky myself," Monger admitted, raising an eyebrow.

"I would imagine there might be some trace signals from the wreckage of Gallaxhar's ship," Cockroach suggested. "The aliens could be honing in on that. Or some residual quantonium radiation. Any idea what we're facing, General? Alien invasion? Abductions? Probes?" he added, looked more and more eager.

"Unknown, and I hate me some unknowns! And that's why I want you monsters on the ground in Modesto immediately, and searching the area for any alien presence. ASAP! Or better yet, pronto! Even better, now!"

"If found?" Cockroach asked.

"Squash it?" Link asked.

"One moment, please!" came a new voice.

Susan turned, and saw the alien liaison approaching on its many tentacles.

"Yes, Xalthazar?" Monger asked, his eyes narrowed.

"As the official representative of extra-terrestrial life and artifacts on this planet, I am required to be present at all incidents involving potential ET contact."

"Yes, I know what the President said," Monger growled. "You are here in an advisory capacity, however."

"In that case, I shall advise," Xalthazar said. "You have a sighting of a possible alien craft over Modesto, and you haven't even wondered why that nothing little village is its target?"

"Actually, I proposed it was due to either Gallaxhar's ship, or possible residual radiation from the quantonium," Cockroach noted, while Susan made a face at the alien.

"Oh. Ah. You did? Good guesses. Well, yes, it probably is."

"Is which?" Monger asked.

"One or the other," Xalthazar said calmly. "I suggest we head there immediately."

"Wait, what about our party?" Link asked.

"Yeah, I got all dressed up and everything," Susan added, gesturing to her cheerleader costume.

Xalthazar looked at her. "Why are you wearing that strange outfit?"

"I thought we were having a party." She sighed, and looked down at her costume. "I guess I should get changed now."

"No, stay in that," Monger ordered. "We're going in incognito!"

"Incognito?" Link gasped. "Us? How can _we_ possibly go anywhere incognito?"

"Tonight everyone else will be dressed up as monsters as well," Monger explained. "And that's why I want you to be in costume, Ginormica."

"Isn't it a bit, er, revealing?" Cockroach asked. "I mean, that is to say, not that I've looked closely or anything, but, um, isn't her skirt a bit short? For someone so, uh, tall?"

"You mean her panties are on view," Link said bluntly. "We can see pretty much all the way to Venus."

"Not Uranus?" Bob asked, before Susan squashed him flat.

"Don't worry," she said with a slight smile at Cockroach's awkwardness. "They're not lace or anything. It's a cheerleader outfit. It's designed to show underneath the skirt. You must have seen cheerleaders in action, surely?"

"No, not really," he admitted. "Sports isn't really my thing. And we don't tend to have cheerleaders at cricket matches anyway. But as long as you're okay with it…"

"Compared to some I've seen, that's nothing," Link added. "That is, it's not nothing. Those others are closer to nothing. Anyway, I prefer the sort that look like bikinis. The 49ers are pretty hot too, mind. You could have tried that."

"Enough blather!" Monger barked. "Right, listen up you lot! All we know is that there is a possible alien incursion. Whatever these aliens are, they are not the same as Xalthazar's people, or he would have been able to determine that and make contact. He has told me that these aliens may have the ability to assume Terran shape. So we are faced with aliens who could look like anyone! Even us! Doc, is your detector thingy working?"

"Just making a few adjustments now!" Cockroach sang out, his head bent over his work. "There! General, if I may?"

Cockroach held a strange device assembled from a random collection of parts. It was vaguely shaped like a gun, but instead of a barrel, it had a wide circular pie plate on the end.

"What is that?" Link asked, looking at it with a great deal of suspicion.

"It's an alien detector," Cockroach told him. "I started working on it a fortnight ago, at the General's request. He wanted to know just what percentage of his cyborg mechanisms were alien. Now it's complete, I can see if it works!"

Cackling madly, he aimed it towards the general and squeezed the trigger, and an array of red beams shone out.

"Don't test that thing on me!" Monger yelled, ducking.

"Oh, it's perfectly safe, I assure you," Cockroach said. "I already tested it on myself, and Mike from Accounts. He'll recover in no time, don't worry."

The mad scientist consulted the readout on the display as Monger spluttered.

"Reading a combination of human, and Terran and alien technology," Cockroach told them. "Results suggest… augmented cyborg. Good."

"Do me! Do me!" Bob asked, bouncing up and down. Cockroach aimed his device, and bathed Bob in its red rays.

"Cytoplasmic matrix based on tomato DNA showing deprotonated carbonic acid combined with ranch-flavoured benzoic acid food preservative. A.K.A. B.O.B."

"Enough!" Monger called loudly. "Xalthazar, you have something to add?" he added, looking up at the tall alien.

"I have been able to determine that the initial presence was at this location," Xalthazar noted, indicating on the map. "A section of land set aside for the inefficient and biologically wasteful practice of primitive agriculture."

"That's Farmer Jeb's place," Susan exclaimed.

"You know it?" Monger asked.

"Sure! My parents and I went out there every year to get our pumpkins."

"Another connection with Ginormica," Xalthazar mused. "Why you, and not one of the other monsters? Suspicious."

"No, it isn't," Susan retorted. "I'm the only one from Modesto in the first place."

"I'm from Downington, Pennsylvania!" Bob said happily.

"And I'm from Hawaii," Link told him, giving the alien the shaka hand sign. "Aloha!"

Insecto gave a great roar.

"Yeah, I know, you're another Pacific Islander," Link called back. "Bikini! Love that name!"

"Knock that off and concentrate on the mission," Monger called. "Cockroach, your job will be to determine if any of the residents of Modesto have been taken over by aliens. Link, Bob, you'll accompany him, and be on the lookout for strange behaviour. Or stranger than normal behaviour, since we're dealing with California after all. Ginormica, I want you to investigate the actual site of the initial alien contact out on the farm."

"Me?" Susan asked. "Shouldn't Doc be doing that?"

Monger cleared his throat, and looked a little embarrassed. "To be honest, Ginormica, I'd prefer to keep you away from civilians as much as possible."

"You don't think she'd go on another rampage, do you?" Cockroach gasped.

Monger shook his head, and started to say something, but Susan interrupted.

"He doesn't want people to panic when they see me," she said quietly. "Of course. I should have realised."

"Ah, yes, well, at any rate, those are the personnel deployments. Also, Cockroach is the only one who can make sense of his gadget. Now let's get going!" Monger called, taking off again. "We need to go in fast, contain and neutralize the threat, and keep civilians safe. And let's keep this on a need to know basis. Which means nobody! Needs! To know!" the general barked sternly, hovering a few feet away from Susan's five-foot tall face and glaring at her.

"Not even my parents?" she asked, her expressive face crumpling.

"Sorry. Wouldn't want to go around scaring people. It is Halloween, after all…."

.

* * *

**ME NOTES 'N' STUFF:** For the next few chapters, we're going to be following my version of "Mutant Pumpkins from Outer Space."I was hoping to have this up by Halloween, as a one-shot, but decided to tie it into a wider story. Hence the delay as it grew and grew... I suppose I could have made it "Night of the Mutant Christmas Trees," but I don't think that would have worked as well. Besides, this story will still be here next Halloween (I hope...).

The massive wooden pencil that Susan is using is quite real. You can see them a range of them at pencilcraft dot com for example. The story behind Guy Fawkes is of course as accurate as Wikipedia can make it. For those who are curious as to what exactly "drawn and quartered" mean, "drawn" is generally taken to mean being dragged (drawn) behind the cart on the way to execution, though some sources suggest it means your internal organs were drawn out of you. Without anaesthesia. And "quartered," as the name implies, means that your dead body was chopped into four pieces and exhibited around the city or the country. Often the hanging would stop before actual death so you could be disembowelled while still able to appreciate the process. Research for this was interesting, but not exactly pleasant. It certainly put me off any ideas of committing High Treason….

I debated a lot with myself about Susan's reaction to Link in her tea. While her more hysterical reaction here as opposed to her calmness in the movie short might seem like character regression (making her scared too easily), I decided it might be funnier if we had Link realise what a stupid idea his plan was in the first place—if you want to scare someone, don't do so in such a way that their reaction could hurt you. For example, it's not a good idea to lean over from the back seat, put your hands over the driver's eyes, and call "guess who!" while driving down the motorway…. It's also a way to remember just how powerful Susan can be when her control fails. Nor did I want to retread the Mutant Pumpkins short _too_ much.

I've decided to give Susan her Zombie Cheerleader outfit. I've even done an illustration of it which can be seen in my gallery on DeviantArt, under "Pixelmangler" (link in my Profile). In my view, it was made from cut up old uniforms, or at least the same fabric. I deliberately changed Monger's last line order, too—it's not a mistake.

Bob's home town of Downington, PN, is where the original "Blob" movie was set. Insecto, being mutated by nuclear testing in the Pacific in the 1950s, is presumably from Bikini Atoll (which gave its name to the bikini swimsuit as something that would be equally as explosive…). And Link, while found somewhere rather cold, probably Antarctica, presumably didn't return there after being thawed due to a lack of beach girls to chase, so I have decided he might as well be Hawaiian. The shot of his rampage looks a little like Waikiki, so it might as well be.


	3. So Shall Ye Reap

**3. So Shall Ye Reap**

An hour later they were all sitting on the massive back of Insectosaurus, making their way towards Modesto. Monger and Xalthazar were discretely following in a helicopter, in order to help maintain the fiction that this was not an official mission. Susan found the flight a little chilly, as her outfit left large amounts of skin bare. So she was quite glad when the titanic insect finally descended and slowly glided low over Modesto, breaking several fundamental laws of physics in the process.

"That's my grandparents' house there! See? With all those lights!" Susan exclaimed, pointing. She gave directions to Insectosaurus, who angled down.

"Remember, Ginormica, you must not tell your parents or grandparents why we are really here," Monger's voice cut in on her headset. "This is just a, er, social call."

"I know. But I'm still grateful, General," Susan replied.

"Well, if it wasn't impossible to hide a 350-foot butterfly—"

"Moth!"

"Shut up, Cockroach. A 350-foot _moth_ and a fifty-foot giantess, you wouldn't be seeing them at all," Monger carried on as Cockroach sat and pouted.

"I agree with your reasoning, Earthling leader," Xalthazar commented. "Preventing panic in inhabited areas is key. This is why our scout missions prefer rural locations."

"We're here, General. Signing off," Susan called, removing her headset as the huge moth landed outside the Murphy seniors' home in the suburbs with a flurry of wind and a large crash. She could see her parents outside, putting the final touches to the elaborate decorations her grandfather loved.

"Susie Q!" her father called as Susan and her friends slid off Insectosaurus's wing. "Love the costume! Very impressive!"

"Wow, you look great, Dad," Susan said happily. "And you too, Mom. Very cool. Frankenstein and his bride!"

"Actually, my dear, Frankenstein was the name of the mad scientist who created the, er, creature," Cockroach pointed out. "A personal hero of mine, I might add."

"Quiet, Doc," Link growled.

"How wonderful to see you, dear!" her mother said. "And so unexpected! Did they let you go already?"

Susan shook her head. "Not yet. But they've let me come for a quick visit, since you can't come and see me!" She picked them both up carefully, holding them so they could give her a kiss on the cheek each.

"That's so nice! I was afraid we wouldn't see you for months yet!"

"What your mother said," her father added. "We were afraid Modesto would have to get invaded by aliens or something to see you again!"

"Invaded by… aliens? What a, uh, silly idea!" Susan stammered, turning pink.

"Yes, we're just here for the party, Mr and Mrs Murphy," Cockroach added, walking up to them. "If that's who you really are!" he added, whipping out his detector ray and quickly scanning them. "Oh. They're clear," he muttered, his shoulders slumped as Susan's parents looked confused.

"Clear…ly really pleased to see us all!" Susan quickly improvised. "Where's Grandma and Grandpa?"

"Grandpa's out with your cousins, trick-or-treating," her father told her. "Uncle Rick had to work tonight. They wanted extra cops on patrol, it seems. And Grandma's… oh, there she is!"

"Oh my Lord!" came a new voice as an elderly woman came out of the front door. "My, my, you are big, aren't you? Come here, dear, and let your grandmother give you a big kiss!"

Susan leaned as far forwards as she could, letting her grandmother kiss her face as she carefully put her fingers around the old woman's back.

"I missed you," she confessed. "I see Grandpa's been as over the top as usual."

"Oh, you know him," Susan's grandmother said, waving her arm at the yard full of colourful decorations. "Never happier than when going all out. Children of the Candy Cornfield, Death by Chocolate Fountain, all your old favourites!"

Bob's face fell. "Well, yes, this is very impressive," he admitted. "But, you know, call me when it's real candy…."

"Bob?"

"Link?"

"It is real candy," the aquatic ape explained with a sigh.

Bob's eye opened wide. He started towards the nearest pile of sugar, but hadn't gone more than a few feet when he was suddenly crushed under Susan's giant shoe, along with a rather large pumpkin or two.

"Oops," she said with a grin as she peeled him off her sole. "Bob, stay out of that. That's for the children. Don't worry," she added to her parents and grandmother, who were looking rather shocked. "He's indestructible. I've stood on him before. He likes it."

"Anyway, now that you're here, Susan dear, you can help me peel the grapes for the eyeball salad," her grandmother said.

Susan looked down at her two-foot long fingers and smiled gently. "Sorry, Grandma. I'm not so good with delicate work these days."

"Well, Wendy, you can do that," her father said. "Susan, you can put that Halloween sign on the roof then."

"That I can do," Susan said happily. She picked up the large sign, and carefully placed it on the roof of her grandparents' two-storied Colonial-style home. "Is that okay?"

"A little to the left, perhaps," her father called up. Susan moved the sign a foot sideways. "Perfect!" he said. "Just let me plug it in!"

Susan sat back on her heels and smiled as the sign suddenly started flashing.

"Great!" her father said. "Well, you hold down the fort here, while I head out."

"Out? Where to?" Susan quickly asked.

"Not to point the finger at anyone, but we need more pumpkins!" he told her, pointing his finger at Susan as he headed towards his new convertible. But just as he was about to open the door, the car vanished. Blinking, he looked up, and saw his fifty-foot daughter holding it in her giant hand, high above his head.

"No! You mustn't!" she exclaimed. "Sorry. I mean, it isn't safe out there. Not in your new car. You could… uh… get eggs thrown at you. Or t-p'ed. Or… or worse! So, uh, I'll go to Farmer Jeb's and get the pumpkins."

"If you insist," her father said. "But be careful!"

"Don't worry about me," Susan assured him as she put the car back down on the driveway again.

"I'm not!" he shot back. "I'm worried about my new car!"

Susan laughed, and sat back on her heels. "I didn't get a scratch on it! Anyway, since all looks clear here, uh, Link, why don't you take Bob and go, uh, look for candy?"

"Why? There's so much here!" Bob exclaimed.

"But the fun of Halloween is collecting it!" Susan told him. "You lot head off, okay? Go and check out the neighbourhood…" she finished with a meaningful look at Cockroach.

"Of course!" he told her. "We'll keep an eye out for ali… for sweets," he quickly added, glancing at Susan's parents. "I mean what you call candy. Say, did you know 'candy' is a Middle English term dating back to the 13th century, and derived from the Persian 'qandi' or 'cane sugar'? It's really quite fascinating. It may even have Dravidian roots."

"Huh?" Susan's father said, looking confused.

"Ignore him. We all do," Susan told him with a laugh. "I'll see you later. I'll ride Insecto to Farmer Jeb's. Come on, guys," she added, looking at Cockroach and the others.

"Of course! We'll do our job… and, uh, look after Bob," Cockroach said. "Oh, I can smell the sugar…."

"Just try and stay focused," Susan told him with a sigh as she headed over to Insectosaurus.

"I will, my love," he assured her. He nodded a farewell to Susan's parents, and followed the other monsters out onto the road in their attempt to track down the alien intruders without causing panic. And perhaps partake of a few samples of the latest confectionery releases, he added to himself, cackling softly. Just a few… to start off with….

* * *

There was no sound. Susan stopped at the edge of the darkened farm and scanned the area, her face worried. Normally Farmer Jeb would be doing a roaring business on Halloween as people bought last-minute pumpkins. While the main sales were in the week or so leading up to it, there was still always a sizeable fraction of people who needed them on the night. So where were these people? And where was cantankerous old Jeb himself, for that matter? Susan glanced over at the farmhouse, which showed no sign of life.

"Farmer Jeb? Jeb? Anyone? Hello?" she called. There was no reply.

She carefully stepped over the entrance gateway, and made her way along the gravel drive. The pumpkin fields had been stripped completely bare, leaving nothing behind.

Nervous, Susan took her headset from her pocket and put it back on. "Guys? You there? I'm out at the original site, and there's nothing. No sign of life. Not even crazy old Farmer Jeb. But it sure looks like a lot of people bought pumpkins this year. Every single one has gone."

"Nothing here either, Suze," Link's voice replied despondently. "I think that this is just one big yeearghh!"

"Link!" Susan called in a panic as his voice suddenly cut off in a yell of terror. "Are you all right? What happened?"

Then she heard Cockroach laughing. "Nothing to worry about, my dear! Just a creepy clown costume! Poor old Link's upset that most of the monsters here are scarier than he is!"

"I am not!" Link's voice retorted. "I'm upset that I'm always being mistaken for Shrek!"

"I thought it was because you were mistaken for being a fat mermaid," Bob noted.

"Don't worry, Susan! Everything's fine here!" Cockroach called. "We'll be in touch! Bob, put that down! That's my Butterfinger!"

The transmitter cut off, and Susan sighed. "What did I say about focus?" she muttered to herself. "Oh, I suppose I can't blame them—they haven't been out in public like this for years, after all. Link's gonna want to catch up on his scaring. And both Bob and Doc are major sugarholics anyway…."

Susan's musings were cut short by a sudden noise behind her. She whirled, but saw nothing. The farm was silent and deserted, lit only by the nearly-full moon, which was still low in the sky. It cast long shadows, inky and cold, and Susan tried to avoid stepping in them for fear of what could be hiding in the darkness. Then she noticed that a sun umbrella, set up to shade a table for picnickers, was rotating slightly, despite there being no wind. A shiver ran up Susan's back. There was something else here with her, something that didn't want to be seen...

"Je-Jeb?" she called out, her voice quieter. "He-hello?" There was no sound, but the air seemed to get even colder. Susan shivered again, wishing she was wearing something other than a skimpy cheerleader outfit. Plate armour would do nicely right about now, she decided, looking around carefully.

The sound of a banging barn door attracted her attention. "Farmer Jeb? You in there?"

She knelt down on the ground so she could see in, and carefully pushed the barn doors open. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the gloom, then she screamed. Farmer Jeb was hanging upside-down from a rafter, and his skin had been neatly removed.

Susan felt ill, her stomach heaving. Then she saw a dozen pairs of glowing green eyes, shining out of the dark. Staring at her. Something lunged at her face and she tried to jump up, only there was something around her ankles, binding them, and she tripped, falling with an immense crash into the tractor shed.

Something was coming closer to her, something that seemed to be a disembodied, floating head with blue-green fire for eyes. She screamed again, swinging her arm. Her hand contacted the head, which exploded, scattering glowing green goo everywhere. She could see another head behind it. Terrified, Susan fought her way out of the debris, destroying most of the rest of the shed in her panic, and ripped long dark cords away from her ankles. Jumping awkwardly to her feet, she ran blindly, knocking over a windmill as she ran into the countryside. After a couple of minutes, when she had already covered nearly five miles, she slowed, then halted, looking behind her. There was nothing. The only sound was a few nocturnal insects, and a distant car. Then she became aware of Cockroach's voice in her ear, calling her name.

"Guys!" she shouted into her headset.

"Susan! What's wrong?" Cockroach called. "We heard you scream, and then we kept trying to call you and you didn't answer!"

"Sorry," she said, checking around nervously. "It's Jeb—he's… he's been… Oh, it's just so horrible. He's been skinned!"

"My God!" Cockroach called. "What happened?"

"There're… things," Susan said, breathing deeply. "Things... heads… with eyes… in the barn with him…. Tried to catch me. I ran…. Didn't stop. I'm not sure where I am. No, wait, I can see headlights on a road. I'll—Oh my God! They're here!"

"Susan!" Cockroach yelled into his headset. But there was no answer, only the low hiss of static.

...

* * *

**WORDMANGLER'S NOTES:** First off, you'll notice that I've made it Susan's grandparents' house, not her parents' house. It's clearly a very different house to the one we see in the movie, and while it's perfectly possible her parents traded up and bought a new place, in my own canon they've already bought a new place outside town where Susan can come and visit more easily. So I made this her grandparents' place. There's no real difference. And I think grandfathers are slightly more likely than fathers to indulge young children with excessive decorations. Nor do I want her parents to be too rich: they should live in an average house in an average town.

I've also changed Susan's stopping her father from using his car. In the movie short, she knocks it over sideways. This would cause major damage, and frankly her father would have good reason to be rather angry with her. It's far easier, just as effective in stopping him, and even more suggestive of her height to have her simply pick it up and hold it up high in the air. Much of the rest of the interaction of the monsters and the Murphys is the basically the same as the short, just to keep it grounded here and there with the official canon from time to time.

I think headsets work much better than those walkie-talkies they used in the short. In the short, Susan's walkie-talkie looks normal-sized too, which isn't good. And where on earth does Link keep his? Do we really want to know?

The moon rose at 19:23 on October 31st, 2012, and was 97.9% full. So it would have been low, and nearly full. Thank you, Interwebs….

I won't be posting daily from now on, by any means. But I've largely completed up to Chapter 10, so I have a bit of a buffer.


	4. Night of the Mutant Pumpkins

**4. Night of the Mutant Pumpkins**

Susan gasped in fear as the swarm of disembodied heads came towards her. Each one was tiny, but there were dozens of them. She swatted a number of them down as they dove at her head. In her fear she dislodged her headset and stood on it, crushing it into the soft earth as she turned and ran. She reached a road and ran straight through the power lines, feeling only a brief mild jolt, and plunging the street into darkness. She could see the lights of Modesto off to the right, so ran down the empty road towards them. To her relief, the heads were no longer following her. Reaching an intersection, she stopped and looked around.

"Right, I'm on McHenry Ave," she said to herself, stooping down to read the small sign over the wide main road. "Okay, this should lead me straight into the city."

She had to slow down as she got closer to the city, as there were more cars on the road. As it was night, she knew she had to be careful that someone didn't drive straight into her foot. It wouldn't be pleasant for her, and probably very unpleasant for the unfortunate driver. For a moment she found herself wishing she still had the flashing lights for her shoes that Monger had tried to make her wear in Las Vegas. That started to bring back a number of painful memories, and Susan did her best not to dwell on them, hard as it was not to. She had a mission to complete: she needed to find Cockroach and the others, and, with the loss of her headset, she was unable to contact them. So she decided to head to the last place she saw them, her grandparents' house.

She now had to move very carefully indeed: the streets were full of little children in costume, and while she was the centre of attention normally, there was so much going on that not everyone immediately noticed the fifty-foot zombie cheerleader carefully tiptoeing along the road. Then a child saw her foot, looked up, and screamed shrilly.

"Help! It's Ginormica! Run!"

"No! Wait!" Susan called. "I won't hurt you!"

"It's the monster! Help!" shouted a girl.

"Get out of here! Run! It's her! She'll kill us all!" someone else shrieked, and the street was suddenly full of screaming, panicking people.

"Get away from her, you beast!" cried a woman, her arms protectively around a young girl as she dragged her away.

Susan stopped, midway through stooping down. She sighed, and rose to her full height again. There was no sense in trying to explain, in trying to let every single person know she wouldn't dream of hurting them. It would be a long time, Susan realised with a sigh, before her violent rampage in Las Vegas would be forgotten, or forgiven. She couldn't let herself think about it, though: she had to get back to the others, and find some way to deal with the strange beings she had encountered. Wherever they were from, whatever they were, she was pretty sure they weren't friendly.

Wiping away tears, she did her best to ignore the screams, just calling out "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," or "Please, I need to come through. I won't hurt you, I promise" to clear the roads. As she made her way through the streets, she gradually became aware that the usual screams and running about had increased. Children were running about in panic, but no longer away from her. In fact many of them were running towards her, crying.

"Help! Help!"

"They're after us!"

"Please, save us, Susan!"

"They're alive!"

"What? Who? What's going on?" Susan asked, stopping and looking around.

"The pumpkins! They're alive!" someone shrieked.

"Pumpkins?" Susan gasped. Then she noticed them: a dozen jack-o'-lanterns were running, on spindly stalk legs, towards the children clustered around her feet. They had glowing blue-green eyes and mouths, and Susan suddenly recognized them as being the same as the creatures that had attacked her on the farm.

"Get on!" she ordered, stooping down and lowering her hands. The children scrambled onto her palms, the last one barely making it before the first mutated pumpkin arrived. Susan quickly stood up, holding the children very carefully, and checked the road for any she might have missed. But it was empty, save for the strange orange creatures. Susan raised an eyebrow as they made a beeline for her.

"You're going to attack me? Really?" she asked, raising her foot. "Hey kids, what does a pumpkin turn into when a twelve ton giantess steps on it?"

"Squash!" yelled out one, peering over the edge of her hand as Susan brought her foot down on the attacking plants.

"Dead right," Susan said with a tight smile. "Come on kids, let's get you to safety!"

Carefully, as there still could be people on the road, she carried on towards her grandparents' place, but soon found that the mutant pumpkins were not just on that one road, but everywhere. The streets were full of people running, screaming, and Susan was finding it hard to move for fear of putting her foot down on someone blindly fleeing a pumpkin.

"Susan! Susan! Down here!"

Susan stopped at the familiar voice. "Uncle Rick? Boy am I glad to see you! What's going on?"

Her uncle had stopped his patrol car at an intersection and was guiding people to safety, while he and a few adults were using batons and clubs to attack the creatures.

"I've got no idea what's happening. They just suddenly all came to life! I'm getting reports from all over this part of town. Where'd they all come from?"

"Farmer Jeb!" Susan exclaimed. "Of course!"

"What about him?"

"Uncle Rick, these must be the pumpkins from Farmer Jeb's farm—we monitored an alien ship briefly over that area; that's why we're here."

"We?" Rick asked, looking around.

"Me and the other monsters," Susan explained. "We came to investigate."

"Is the army out here too?"

Susan shook her head. "We were supposed to be incognito, just sussing out the situation."

"Well, I guess you—take that, you slimeball!—found the problem," Rick said, swatting with his nightstick at a pumpkin that got too close. "We're being attacked by swarms of alien vegetables!"

"Look, I gotta go—I have to find Doc and the others, work out a way to deal with this," Susan said. "You'll need to call out the National Guard or whatever you call, and try and contain this part of town, evacuate as many as you can."

"Will do," Rick said. "Your grandpa and your cousins Ann and Mike are safe, back at your grandparents' place, and I'll get there as soon as I can."

"Oh, can you take care of these kids for me too?" Susan asked, stooping down carefully.

"Take them to Grace Davis High School," Rick told her, pointing down the road. "We've established a safe zone there."

"Roger," Susan said, standing up again. "Don't worry, kids, I won't drop you. Hold on tight!"

The school was only a few blocks away, and Susan was able to reach it without incident. She saw a number of police vehicles there, their lights flashing. For an instant, she was reminded of Las Vegas, and felt a jolt of fear course through her, but kept her memories in check and calmly lowered the children to the ground.

"Get back from them!" called a voice. "You touch them again and I'll shoot, you monster!"

Susan looked over, seeing a woman brandishing a rifle. "Please, no! I'm not hurting them!" she called. "I brought them to safety!"

"She did, Mrs Tucker!" one of the children called.

"Yeah, she saved us!" a boy told her.

"Get inside, Sam," the woman called. "All of you, get away from Ginormica, now!"

Susan raised her hands slowly, and stood up. She had no desire to be shot again, and her heart was beating fast.

"You! Go away! And don't come back!" the woman shouted at Susan, who just nodded, and stepped carefully away from the school. Once she had moved back a few paces, the woman headed back into the school, still keeping her rifle trained on the teary giantess. Only when the woman had disappeared inside did Susan dare to move, heading back towards her grandparents' house as quickly as she could. People were running, screaming, and it was hard to walk. She could hear gunfire in the distance, sirens mingled with screams, and swallowed hard. Things were rapidly spiralling out of control, and she had no idea how to deal with the creatures, other than stamping as many of them underfoot as she could. What exactly were these things? What did they want? Cockroach might know, so she had to find him. Soon.

By now the roads were clearer, as people fled to the safety of their homes or the safe zone, so Susan could move a little faster. An armoured police van cruised by, broadcasting a warning for citizens to stay in their homes, and away from pumpkins. Susan stepped back to let it pass, giving the astounded driver a quick smile, then kept heading south, stepping on any pumpkins she spotted. Some of the pumpkins seemed to heading towards a house, so she quickly crushed them.

"I am so glad I didn't wear my Prada shoes today," the giantess muttered, looking at the mess on both her grey Converse sneakers.

This time, unlike before, there was a clear reaction from those that she missed. Instead of ignoring her, or fleeing, she realized that they were still coming towards her. They seemed larger as well, though it was hard to be sure from her height. Angry, she quickly stamped on all she could reach, turning the road into a sea of orange pulp. She also managed to stamp on an orange sports car by mistake, flattening it to the tarmac.

"Crap," Susan swore, looking at the mangled metal. "Where the hell are all these pumpkins coming from? How big was that damned pumpkin patch anyway?"

Backing off, she turned and started walking as fast as she could to her grandparents' home. A white Mustang convertible suddenly shot out of a side street, skidded on some pumpkin pulp, and was only saved from crashing into a parked van by Susan's hand quickly catching it.

"Doc, that's the last time I let you drive!" Link called, jumping out. "Hey, Giny! Finally tracked you down!"

"How did you find me? Sorry, silly question." Susan added after a second.

"Susan, my dear!" Cockroach called. "I'm so glad you're safe! We heard you scream, and then nothing."

"I'm fine. Sorry for making you worry. I just panicked," Susan said, blushing slightly as she got down on one knee to talk to them. "Hey, that's Dad's new car! Where's Dad? Is he safe?"

"He's fine, my dear," he told her. "We, er, borrowed his car to get to you as fast as we could, once we realised we couldn't contact you."

"Yeah, I lost my headset," Susan admitted.

"Monger won't be happy," Bob noted, oozing out of the car.

"Right now I don't really care," Susan shot back. "We have bigger fish to fry."

"You mean pumpkins to pie," Bob added. "I love pumpkin pie!"

"What did you find at the farm?" Cockroach asked. "You said Jeb had been, er, skinned? What happened after that?"

Susan shuddered. It was very painful to recall the horrifying figure of Farmer Jeb, strung upside down from his own rafters, his skinless corpse dripping blood. "I was attacked," she said. "I couldn't tell what they were, then, but I think they were more pumpkins. Doc, what the hell is going on here?"

"We're still not quite sure," he admitted. "Xalthazar and Monger are heading to the farm now, to investigate the site."

"We were going out there to find you, but since you're here we should whoop some orange asses," Link added.

"Yeah, they're pretty easy to smoosh," Susan said happily. "If a little messy."

"As superbly as you are dealing with them, my dear, that's not the final solution, however," Cockroach said. "My cursory analysis of their attack patterns and distribution, and the remains of the infected pumpkins, suggests some central control. We need to find this control nexus and destroy it."

"Where is it?" Susan asked. "Can you tell?"

"Unfortunately, not yet," Cockroach said. "There's probably a master pumpkin somewhere out there, which we need to find."

"Any idea where?" Susan asked.

"None, I'm afraid," Cockroach said.

"Anyway, I reckon we might as well get back to your folks' place," Link said.

"Yes, you ought to return Dad's car before you wreck it," Bob added.

"That's my line, Bob," Susan said with a grin. "And yeah, Dad'll be so mad if you wreck his nice new Mustang."

"I am a scientist, my dear. I understand machinery and physics," Cockroach said, restarting the car. It jolted backwards, and Susan quickly lifted the back wheels off the ground to stop it going anywhere as Link shifted the gear selector into neutral. "Most machinery," Cockroach added, somewhat more quietly, his antennae drooping. "Ah, so R is _Reverse_. I thought it was _Run_. After all, it is in computers. Interesting. The things you miss being in prison for half a century…."

"Anyway, we'll see you back at your folks' place," Link called as Susan gently lowered the car to the road.

"Take care, okay?" Susan said, waving. "Especially about the attacking alien things."

"I shall, my love," Cockroach assured her. He watched as the titanic giantess carefully stood to her full height, towering above the houses, and blew a kiss when she looked down on him again. His eyes followed her as she carefully walked down the road, each twenty-five foot leg carrying her a dozen or more feet in a single stride. Her silver hair was catching the moonlight, and the skimpy cheerleader costume was clinging to her curves in all the right places. It was a peculiarly sweet torture, he reflected, to be with someone so sweet, so beautiful, and yet so completely unattainable in a physical sense. But at least they were intimate emotionally, to a degree he had never expected to reach with anyone. It was enough, Cockroach thought with contentment, that they could admit their love, draw strength from it—physically acting on it was less important. For him, at least, he knew it was, and, he hoped, it was for her as well—for now.

* * *

"What on Earth's going on, Carl?" Wendy Murphy exclaimed, bolting the front door. "What's happened to all the jack-o'-lanterns?"

"Damned if I know," her husband said. "Mom, Dad, I told you to stay down in the basement! It's not safe up here!"

"I'll be fine," Susan's grandmother said. "It's not me they're after."

"I know," Carl said, swallowing hard. "It's the... the children."

"Why?" Wendy asked.

"I… I don't know," Carl said. "We have to just stay calm, and hope Susan gets here soon."

"I hope she's all right," Wendy said. "All alone, out there. My little girl…."

"Not so little any more," Carl reminded her.

"I know, honey," Wendy said. "But to me, she'll always be my little princess."

"Our little princess," Carl corrected her.

His wife looked over at him, and smiled. "She'll be fine, won't she? I just know it. Of course she will." She looked around at the half-dozen neighbourhood children sheltering in the house with them, and shivered. "What if those… those things come through the door? How can we protect the children?"

"The radio said we should be safe as long as we remain in our homes," Carl said. "But if the pumpkins are all… changing into these things…."

"You sure you removed every single one from the house?" Wendy asked.

Carl nodded. "Every single one. We should be safe in here." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "What on earth are we going to do? Ever since that meteorite hit, we've had alien invasions, monster attacks…. What is going on here?"

"I really don't know," his wife said gently. "Here, you forgot your cup of coffee."

Carl looked up at his wife and smiled, then took the offered cup and sipped gently before setting it down again. He sighed again. "I don't know what we can do. Pray for a miracle, I guess."

"You think we should?"

"At this stage… I just don't know," he said, trailing off. A slight movement caught his eye, and his heart jumped. But it was only his coffee cup. As he looked it vibrated again, ripples meeting in the middle. Now he could feel them too—heavy, pounding vibrations that gently shook the entire house.

"It's a dinosaur!" gasped one of the children.

"No, it's her!" another cried, pointing out the window. "It's Ginormica! She's here to save us!"

"It's our miracle," Wendy whispered quietly.

Carl was at the window in an instant, looking up the street. He saw a titanic figure walking swiftly down the road, heading straight towards them. He breathed a sigh of relief. Susan was safe. Not that he really had any serious worries—his daughter had already taken on and defeated massive robots, aliens, and an irradiated giant snail. She was the biggest and strongest person on the planet, and no one, no one could touch her, he thought with pride. Getting rid of these silly mutant pumpkins would be child's play for her.

Peering out of the window, he waved to her, and risked opening it.

"Susan!"

"Daddy! Is everyone okay?" his daughter asked in her deep voice, dropping to her knees. There was a quick splintering crash as she accidentally flattened the fence, but Carl could tell from her face that she was far too worried to notice.

"We're all in here," he told her. "I got everyone inside as soon as I saw what was happening. Your grandfather and cousins are here too. We're all safe, for the moment. Have you seen Uncle Rick?"

Susan nodded, peering in through the windows of each room. "He's fine. He's helping evacuate people. What the hell is going on?"

"We were hoping you could tell us," her father said.

She shook her head. "All I know is that some alien ship was seen over Farmer Jeb's place, I went out there to check it out, found—found…" Susan stopped, and shuddered. She took a deep breath, and carried on. "Found Farmer Jeb dead. Then I was attacked, and ran. The general's gone to investigate the site along with Xalthazar, but I had to come back to make sure you were all right. Dad… I'm sorry."

"Sorry? You didn't do this, darling," her father assured her.

"No, not for that. For lying to you. You were right—I was here to investigate an alien invasion. Not to visit you."

"Oh, that. Never mind that now," Carl said. "I suppose we should have known you wouldn't be allowed out just to visit your poor old parents."

"I really wish I could, you know," Susan said sadly.

"Hey, Suze," came Link's voice.

"What is it?"

"I think you better stop chatting with the folks and start some more stomping," he said, his voice a little higher than normal.

Susan looked around, scanning the area, then smiled at her father again. "Sorry Dad, there's a bunch of them coming towards us."

"Big ones, Suze," Link added as the giantess stood to her full height again. Carl had to lean out the window to see her head. It was dizzying, looking up that far. He felt a shiver run down his spine as Susan moved to crush a group of huge pumpkins, sending a tremor through the ground: he loved seeing his child so strong and confident, so powerful—but there was a slight tinge of fear as well. Fear of her incredible strength and power, and how it had affected her. He would have bet his life that his daughter was still the same kind, sweet girl she always had been, but… it was still hard to ignore her power, and what she could do with that power—what she had done with that power….

...

* * *

**MY NOTES**: McHenry Ave is a real street, to the north of Modesto, and Grace Davis High School is a school in the northern part of the city. I actually hovered (virtually) over Modesto quite a bit, working out where Farmer Jeb's farm might be – it had to be somewhere reasonably easily accessible, and yet still quite rural. I decided Carl Murphy's convertible looked like a Mustang. The bit with the tremor ripples in the coffee cup is my homage to _Jurassic Park_ (a Tyrannosaur is actually substantially lighter than Susan, with modern estimates placing their weight at an upper limit of 7.5 tons to Susan's 11.8 (the heaviest sauropods were much, much heavier than Susan, with estimated weights of up to 80 tons or more)). While revising this chapter, I looked up basements in California, just to make sure they exist. It seems that while basements are not common in CA houses, older ones (like this one) are much more likely to have them, so I decided to leave the Murphys Senior with one. Other than that, there's nothing of notable note in this chapter, at least in terms of research and facts.

Should have the next chapter up before the end of the year...

(Posted 25th December 2013)


	5. Clash of the Titans

**5. Clash of the Titans**

Susan ran back down the road, towards the cluster of oversized pumpkins. They were starting to move faster, evading her feet, and spreading out more so that she couldn't crush as many with a single stomp.

"I can't keep up," Susan said, leaping over a van and dodging down a side street after some running mutants. "They're just too fast now!"

"Fast? I'll show them fast!" Link cried, diving into a bunch with a marital arts yell.

"Fat? I'll show them fat!" Bob added, spreading his body into a wide sheet and engulfing a number more, which he then absorbed.

"Link, those three over there!" Susan called, as the green ape delivered a series of karate kicks to the vegetables. "What's going on? Every pumpkin in town seems to converging on us!"

"And they're big, too!" he shouted up. "Some of these are nearly the size of humans!"

"Susan, be careful," Cockroach called. "They're getting larger for some reason. And the larger they get, the bigger their appetite gets. I've already encountered one that was eating the children as well."

"Oh my god!" Susan gasped, feeling nauseous. "How can we stop them?"

"Crushing seems to work well," Link noted.

"Yes, but it only works on one at a time," Cockroach noted, dodging as a pumpkin nearly as tall as he was tried to grab him.

"Look at the size of that one!" Link shouted. "How much bigger are they going to get?"

As if in answer, the roof of a nearby house splintered and broke apart as a gigantic mutant pumpkin thrust its way out. Towering over fifteen feet tall, it marched across the road on thick stalks and creepers. Its mouth and eyes shone a bright blue-green, and it made a hissing, chattering sound that sent chills up Susan's spine. It jumped on a car, crushing it, and grabbed a bucket of candy which it tossed down its maw. Susan saw it shudder and grow several feet in girth.

The massive jack-o'-lantern then started calling out to the others in a strange guttural language. They surrounded it, calling back in high-pitched tones, and more and more flocked to join it. Susan and others soon found themselves surrounded. She crushed them as fast as she could, but there were always more.

"Oh, come on Susan!" Link suddenly called. "Watch where you're stomping!"

"What?" Susan looked down and saw him completely covered in pumpkin pulp. "I didn't stomp on anything near you," she said.

"Well what's all this muck then?" he asked.

"I saw a pumpkin get too fat and go boom-boom balloon," Bob told him. "It was eating a Swirly Pop, and then it went pop. Hey guys, do you think that's why they're called Swirly Pops? I think there might just be a graduate thesis in this," he finished, assuming the pose of Rodin's _The Thinker_.

"You might just be onto something, Professor Bob," Cockroach said, staring hard at the pumpkins all around them. "Each time they eat candy, they get bigger, so…." He trailed off, his antennae twitching rapidly as he thought. Then his eyes lit up. "Sweet saccharides! It's the sugar! Of course!" he exclaimed. "They feed off the sugar in all the sweets the children have!"

"You might be right. Another one just went pop!" Link cried, wiping fresh pulp off his face.

"Ah, no, sorry, that was me," Susan called down, delivering a powerful kick to a large gourd. "Sorry!"

"That's it! I have it! Sweets! I need lots and lots of sweets!" Cockroach called, cackling madly. "As many as I can get! I must have more sweets! I want candy! I want candy!"

"Hey Doc, we were afraid this would happen," Link said. "Look, just say no, okay? Ease back on the sugary stuff, dude."

"No, you great green baboon," Cockroach told him. "Haven't you listened? The increased sugar is overloading their growth hormones, destroying the physical shell of the pumpkins. If we can find a way to force-feed them with candy, it should destroy them!"

"Great idea!" Susan said happily. "How can we do that?"

"Get them to go trick or treating?" Bob asked.

"No, we can't do it individually. We need some sort of—whoops, that was close; thank you my dear—delivery system. Susan, would you mind taking care of this particularly large fruit that seems to want to engulf me?"

"Not a problem," Susan said with a grim smile as she stooped down and grabbed the pumpkin, then hurled it straight at another. They both exploded, splattering their insides over the road. "What do you need for your delivery system?"

"I'll have to rig something up," Cockroach told her. "But I need to find parts first. Perhaps in your grandparents' garage. And we need a massive supply of candy. Are there any sweets shops around here?"

"No, none," she called down.

"Children of the Candy Corn Field!" Bob called.

"Of course!" Susan exclaimed. "Grandpa's Halloween decorations!"

"Excellent," Cockroach said slowly, steepling his fingers, his eyes almost glowing. He looked up at the giantess with a slightly insane grin. "Try and buy me some time, if you can, my dear."

"Time for what?" Susan called, but he had already gone, scuttling over and around the marauding pumpkins faster than they could react. In the meantime, the largest one had left the car roof, and was now so closely surrounded by pumpkins that Susan could not see the road beneath them. Now all the pumpkins were making strange, high-pitched squeaks and cries, with the largest being the most vocal.

"Enough of that!" Susan cried. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the giant pumpkin. "So you think you can ruin Halloween, huh?" she asked, taking an attack stance. "Well Halloween belongs to monsters. And this monster's a pumpkin-crushing giant!"

She slammed her foot down on it, but it dodged back just in time. Then all the smaller pumpkins started piling towards the giant pumpkin head, going underneath it and lifting it up, until to Susan's horror they had assembled themselves into a crude approximation of the human form, creating a towering homunculus of horror a hundred feet high.

Susan looked up at it and swallowed hard. "And apparently… you're a giant-crushing pumpkin," she stammered. Her moment of weakness didn't last long, however. She thought about all the terrified, crying children she had seen, and her face darkened. Drawing back her fist, she swung at the strange creature. One engorged pumpkin splattered under her blow, but was immediately replaced by another. Susan punched again, but was suddenly knocked to the ground by a heavy blow. She rolled, crushing a car, just as the creature's huge fist whistled past her again, smashing into the road and breaking through the bitumen surface.

Her heart pounding, Susan got to her feet and tried to grab the creature's fist. But she mistimed the first blow, which sent her flying back into a garage. Her twelve-ton weight smashed through the roof, leaving her lying awkwardly on a flattened station wagon. She could hear shouts and screams, and quickly looked around, trying to peer through the dust and debris.

"Anybody hurt?" she called out, her heart in her mouth. "Sorry about your garage!"

A man appeared through the haze, coughing. "Please, don't hurt us!"

"Hey, Ginormica!" called a small boy. "Waste that thing!"

"With pleasure," Susan said grimly, her eyes blazing as she glared up at the huge beast. It roared something intelligible as she stood up.

"No way," Bob called out, his face angry. "You have definitely eaten too much candy—no more for you or you'll spoil your dinner! And don't even think about eating all the candy at the Murphy house. Thataway. Down the road, turn right, end of the street. Lots of lights. Can't miss it."

"Bob?" Link muttered as the pumpkin man started to move off. "Just… don't talk, okay?"

Bob stood there and started to mime as Susan slammed her foot down on him.

"Don't just stand there! That thing's headed to my grandparents' place! Come on!"

She pounded after the massive creature, vaulting over a house to come skidding to a halt in front of her grandparents' place.

"Hey, you jolly orange giant!" she yelled. "You want a piece of Ginormica? Well, come and get it!"

The massive creature, towering over her, swung its fist just as Susan ducked and rolled between its legs. She threw a powerful kick against the creature, but it quickly shifted the pumpkins that made up its body, reversing itself, and Susan found herself being sent flying again by a blow from a new fist. She hit the pavement and rolled, an instant before its foot smashed down where her head was. A small green blur shot past, swinging around the creature on a long tendril.

"It's the Missing Link!" someone called.

"Yay, go the Link!" called a child.

Susan scrambled to her feet as Link soared around the beast's torso and flung himself directly at its face. Enraged, the beast swung its fist at Link, but only succeeded in punching itself. Link ducked into a glowing eye socket, avoiding another blow.

"Stop hitting yourself!" he taunted. "Why won't you stop hitting yourself?"

Susan couldn't repress a quick grin. But she didn't have time to admire his technique. She lunged at the distracted creature, tackling it low and hard. It swayed, but did not topple. Instead, Susan found herself being swiftly bound by dozens of thick tendrils, binding her arms to her sides. She was lifted high up, and thrown hard onto the road, cracking the surface. Pain shot through her, but before she could try to escape, she was suddenly lifted up again. Tumbling through the air, her limbs pinned by vines, Susan was powerless to stop herself. She was heading straight for another house, this one with a group of children huddled in the living room, visible through the windows. Susan's heart beat in her throat as she desperately struggled against the vines.

Then, a split-second before she would have smashed into the house, she felt herself being lifted up to safety. A roar and a rush of wings overhead told her that Insectosaurus had scooped her up in the nick of time.

"Way to go, Big Bug!" came Link's shout as Susan found herself soaring over the street. The titanic moth let her down a safe distance away, and Susan lost no time in snapping the vines binding her.

"Insecto!" she called. "Try and distract it! But don't get too close!"

The giant insect roared her assent, and took off, the gale from her wings buffeting the street. Susan watched her soar up, and hover just above the pumpkin creature's head, whistling. The creature swung its fist at Insectosaurus, and Susan saw her chance. She wrenched a twenty foot steel streetlight pole out of the concrete pavement, and swung it at the pumpkin beast. Her angle was awkward, and it just grazed the side of the creature, which shrieked in defiance and turned towards her.

She jumped back as the beast swung its fist at her, and then batted its arm away with her streetlight pole. She held it out at arm's length, prodding the pumpkins, jabbing quickly. It started lumbering towards her, and she danced sideways, always keeping its dangerous swinging arms out of reach. The pumpkin giant snarled in rage, and stretched out to rip out another streetlight. Susan swallowed hard, holding her own streetlight out in front of her carefully. The pumpkin creature swung its streetlight, and Susan blocked its thrust as Link tried to wrap tendrils around its arm. The arm snapped right through them, the movement sending the green ape tumbling to the ground.

"It's not working!" Link called. "Bob, can't you grab its feet?"

"Oh, sorry, I was looking at those pretty blinking lights. Gosh, they're so pretty. So blue. I love blue…." The amorphous blob giggled, then wrapped himself around the creature's legs. It stumbled, crying out something in its alien language, and several dozen more huge mutant pumpkins swarmed towards it, forming new legs while the ones Bob was wrapped around dispersed or were absorbed.

Susan took a step back, dodging its fist as she swung at the creature's torso, which was as high as she could reach. Her streetlight impacted with a glutinous thump, pulping much of its waist. The creature swayed, then roared in defiance, calling more pumpkins to augment its body.

Susan swore, ducking under the creature's next swing. She spun and slammed her streetlight into its leg, cutting it off at the knee. The creature stumbled forwards onto its hands and knees, and Susan leapt forwards, bringing her pole down with all her strength. It went right through the hideous creature, but the massive rip reformed immediately.

"Every time we mash part of it, it just adds more!" Susan yelled in exasperation. "We can't kill it!"

"When's the Doc going to be finished?" Link shouted back, trying to wrap a vine around the creature's neck.

"Better be soon!" Susan called back.

Then something caught her around the ankles and she tripped, falling backwards onto the road with a tremendous crash. Her feet had been entangled in tendrils trailing from the creature.

"Bob!" she called. "Get these vines off me!"

"No problemo," he called, shooting out several arms at once, which absorbed and ripped the tendrils from Susan's legs. She threw aside the last ones, and rolled out of the way just as the pumpkin mass sent its foot crashing down where she had been.

"It's ready!" came Cockroach's voice.

"At last!" Susan called, looking over to see him pushing out a large device that looked like a weaponized bicycle had mated with a ride-on lawnmower and produced offspring. Behind it was a hopper filled to the brim with every candy confection from her grandparents' front lawn.

"What's ready?" Link asked.

"Prepare to be amazed!" Cockroach called. "I call it… the Candy Crusher!" He cackled madly, his eyes gleaming.

"Never mind what it's called," Link said. "Use it!"

"Of course, of course," Cockroach said. "Bon appetite, mon petit citrouilles!" He cranked a handle, and the machine started spitting out Halloween candy.

The massive pumpkin creature turned, and lumbered slowly towards Cockroach. Each mouth on the dozens or more pumpkins that made up its huge body was open, swallowing the stream of sweets.

"Hmmm," Bob said, pretending to adjust a pair of glasses. "Evidently they eat candy."

"Get some more!" Cockroach ordered him. "Get it all!"

A small explosion rattled the windows as one of the mutant pumpkins exploded. It was followed by another, then another.

"Here's everything!" Bob called, dumping twenty armloads of candy into the hopper.

The Candy Crusher sprayed sweets at the slowly advancing mutant, which was starting to stagger as its body parts expanded and exploded. Link grabbed a stray vine, and clambered up its back, where he began using his claws to rip up pumpkins that were facing away from the Candy Crusher.

Then the hail of sweets stopped.

"Odd," Cockroach said, checking the device.

"Odd?" Susan gasped, swinging her streetlamp at the creature's legs.

"Ah, here we are. Found the problem," Cockroach said, holding up a large orange Swirly-Pop. "Too big for the feeder." His eyes glinted, and he shoved the lollipop in his mouth before restarting the machine gun.

The pumpkin creature shrieked in a mixture of agony and ecstasy as it devoured the confectionary. Susan saw her chance. She moved back down the block, then ran towards the creature. Sprinting down the road as fast as she could, she smashed into it at over a hundred miles an hour, slamming the creature's length into the road, rolling over its torso to reach its neck.

"Nobody ruins a Murphy Halloween!" she yelled as she grabbed its head and bodily ripped it off and threw it down the street. Then she was blinded by fountain of pumpkin guts as the rest of the creature, overloaded with sugar, finally exploded in a chain reaction.

"Yay! We did it!" Bob cried.

"I say, very well done, chaps!" Cockroach called, sucking happily on his Swirly-Pop.

"Oh yuck," Susan muttered, sitting up rather dazed. She shook her head to clear it, sending pumpkin pulp flying.

"The head!" Link called, and Susan twisted to see the giant pumpkin head of the creature take off, running on its deceptively spindly legs down the street. It vanished around a corner.

"I'll get it!" Susan called, getting to her feet.

"Negative! It's too dangerous to go running through the town! Leave that to Insecto!" came a rasping voice from above them.

Susan looked up in time to see the massive insect swooping low after the escaping pumpkin, and Monger hovering above her. "General! Where have you been?"

"Monitoring the situation, soldiers." Monger landed, and retracted his lifting jets. "I have been out at the farm with our alien liaison, examining the site. Seems like you monsters did a great job here." He took a deep breath, and grinned. "Ah, I love the smell of mutant pumpkin guts in the evening. It smells like victory…. Also like pie. Link, collect all those pumpkin guts. I might want to make us a pie for Thanksgiving!"

Susan looked around at the street. People were starting to venture out of their homes, looking around fearfully at the destruction. "It's okay!" she called out. "It's safe now!"

"Susie Q!"

"Dad!" Susan turned to see her parents venture uncertainly out of the house and look around. The house and garden were liberally splattered in warm, gooey orange pulp. "I'm sorry it's such a mess. But I had to stop that creature."

"That's, uh, okay, darling," her mother said, looking around at the wreckage. "I guess you did what you had to do."

"Ah, Mr Murphy," Cockroach said. "I'm afraid your new car might need a wash. It appears to be largely full of pumpkin soup. Might want to get the camshaft rockers checked as well. And my dear Mrs Murphy, how nice to see you again. I don't suppose by chance you have any… er, that is to say… ambrosia…?"

"He means garbage," Susan explained with a smile. "He really likes the taste of yours."

"Oh. Really? Indeed. Uh…. Over there," Susan's mother said, looking very uncomfortable.

"Most grateful!" Cockroach exclaimed as he made a beeline for the trashcan. Removing the lid, he inhaled the aroma. "Oh, that is sublime. Truly, the nectar of the gods!"

"Susan dear, does he… does he really have to do that?" her mother asked, looking at Cockroach out of the corner of her eyes.

"Seriously, Mom, he really likes it. It's like chocolate is for us," Susan explained. "Oh, hey, Anne. Uh, I'm glad you're safe."

"Wow! You were awesome, Cuz!" her young cousin Anne cried as she joined her aunt and uncle.

Susan smiled warmly. "Thanks! I was a bit worried for a moment back there, when that thing had me in those vines."

"I saw the whole thing! Uncle Carl tried to stop me, but I snuck upstairs and watched! You were so cool! Did it hurt when it slammed you onto the road?"

Susan rolled her neck and shoulders. "A bit, yeah. I've had worse, though. Getting hit by that train in Vegas—now that hurt."

Anne grinned. "I saw that on the news, yeah. We were watching it live, at home, and Dad said just before the train hit that you weren't going to make it."

"He was right," Susan said with a wry smile. "Not my finest hour."

"You didn't do much better in Paris," Mike added, joining his sister. "All covered in snail goop. And now you're covered in goop again. You might be bigger, but you're just as klutzy as ever."

"Yeah, well…." Susan started to snap an insult at him, like she always used to, but thought better of it. She was bigger than that now. And there were people gathering now, coming out of their homes with cameras and videos, recording everything. She was only glad that the television news crews hadn't made it yet, though she could hear police sirens in the distance, rapidly closing. So she merely gave her cousin a satisfied smile. "Well, it looks like I saved the world again. Or at least Modesto."

"By smothering us in muck."

"You can't save a town without breaking pumpkins," Susan said with a shrug.

"Hush, Mike," her father added. "Take your sister back inside and call your father, let him know that the pumpkins have stopped attacking."

"Ginormica, Xalthazar reports that the pumpkin head has been seen at the farm!" Monger called. "Insecto's on her way back. When she gets here, we move out!"

"Understood, sir!"

A van pulled up and disgorged a television crew. Susan sighed as the bright lights were trained on her, and tried to shield herself from their glare with her hands.

"More carnage by government-created monsters!" the reporter was saying. "Reports have been coming in from all over this area of mutant pumpkins attacking people! The entire street is awash in radioactive pulp! The monsters from the secret government lab at Area 52 are here! Including Ginormica the Destroyer!"

"What? Ginormica the Destroyer!" Susan gasped, trying to hide behind a tree.

"Back!" Monger shouted at the television crew. "This area is off limits to civilian personnel until further notice!"

"The general responsible for unleashing these dangerous beasts is ordering us out!" the reporter said excitedly as the lights and camera were trained on her. "What is the army trying to cover up!"

"Leave! Now!" Monger yelled. "That's an order!"

There was a loud crash behind her. Susan glanced over, and smiled as she saw Insectosaurus preening her wings.

"Monsters, we're moving out!" Monger called. "Back to Ground Zero! Mount the moth!"

"Sir!" Susan saluted him, then turned back to her parents as Cockroach grinned happily.

"Off you go, honey," her mother said. "We'll be here waiting, when you get back."

"We probably won't be coming back here tonight," Susan told her, kneeling down on the street.

"I know. I mean when you get back from your… er, stay… in Area 52."

"Oh. Thanks. I'm really looking forward to it, believe me." She glanced back at the other monsters, and smiled at them. "Although I couldn't ask for better people to live with."

"Ginormica! Move yer keister! Xalthazar has reported that he has the pumpkin contained. We've got some pulping to do!"

"Sir!" Susan snapped a salute and stood up again. Waving farewell to her parents, she lost no time in scrambling aboard, followed by the others. The giant insect took off, wheeling and heading north, hunting down the alien menace that had terrorized the town.

...

* * *

MANGLER'S NOTES: Well, "mon petit citrouilles" means pretty much what you might think it means: "my little pumpkins." I've given Susan a beefier role in fighting the creature—in the MPFOS short, she basically just distracts it long enough for Doc (once again) to play the definitive role in destroying the creature. As he did with Gallaxhar's ship. Susan, however, played the key role in the San Francisco robot, and I want to keep her in key roles as much as possible (I like Doc, I do, but Susan's the star). But without sidelining the others, so each of them have an important role.

But this has mainly been another action chapter, so fewer behind-the-scenes facts and notes. At least none that shouldn't be pretty self-evident. Incidentally, if you look up Wikipedia on the Jolly Green Giant, there's a photo of the 55-foot statue with a man hugging its shoe-a pretty good idea of how big someone would look next to Ginormica.


	6. The Modesto Horror

**6. The Modesto Horror**

Carrying the other monsters, Insectosaurus headed above the now-deserted streets of the town, and was soon out over in the fields that surrounded it.

"That's Farmer Jeb's farm," Susan said, pointing down. "Insecto, can you land on the road just there, outside it?"

The giant insect screeched acknowledgement, and spiralled down. The monsters slid off her huge back, and headed into the farm.

"Susan?" Link called, seeing her hang back. "You coming?"

"You… you think there's anything… dangerous in there?" Susan asked, her voice on edge.

"Dangerous? You mean like the hundred-foot creature you just destroyed? Come on, girl!"

"Yes, yes, I'm being silly," Susan said quietly. But she still felt nervous. She told herself it was just the shock of seeing the skinned man, which luckily had only been a very brief glimpse in a dark barn. But now Cockroach was here, Monger was here, the other monsters were here as well, and she wouldn't have to face whatever was out here alone. _With my size and strength, you'd think I'd be a little braver_, she thought to herself with a trace of annoyance. _Buck up, Susie Q!_ She took a deep breath, and followed the others.

The farm appeared deserted.

"Hello? Xalthy?" she called.

"Get out here, you jellyhead!" Link shouted.

"Ah, you have arrived," Xalthazar said, skittering up to them on his skinny tentacles.

"Did ya see a great mutated pumpkin head come through here?" Link asked.

"Ah, yes, yes, I did, sort of," the alien said. "For a few seconds."

"Was it moving that fast?" Monger asked.

Xalthazar's ear nubs twitched. "Ah, no, not as such. That is to say, I only saw it for a few seconds as I decided… what was that phrase you like to use, Cockroach? Something about discreet valour…"

"Discretion is the better part of valour," Cockroach added.

"Of course. Yes, I hid."

"What in tarnation?" Monger asked. "Hiding from a giant mutated vegetable?"

"Uh, well, technically he was hiding from a giant mutated fruit," Cockroach noted. Monger just glared at him.

"It was a very large and dangerous fruit," Xalthazar added. "And you will recall that I am unarmed."

"Hmph. Point taken. Very well. Anyway, I am armed, and we have Ginormica and the Missing Link."

"And Bob," Susan added.

"I was just coming to him," Monger assured her. "And Bob."

"And Insecto," Link added.

"And Insecto! I know!" Monger said loudly.

A door banged, there was a sudden cold draught of air, and Susan jumped, her skin crawling. "Guys…. I think we should be looking for the head, don't you?"

"Fan out! It's probably hiding in one of the barns! Ginormica, you take point!" Monger ordered.

Susan made a slight face, but did so. She gingerly stepped over the fence, and headed towards the largest barn, carefully avoiding the one where she had seen Jeb. A low moan, barely above a whisper, echoed around the abandoned farm, and Susan froze. "Did you hear that?" she asked.

"Air movements," Xalthazar told her. "Do not be alarmed. There is nothing here that can harm you."

"There's a giant mutated pumpkin head," Susan shot back in a stage whisper.

Xalthazar made a dismissive gesture. "It cannot harm you. My studies suggest no creature on this planet can."

"These pumpkins aren't from this planet," Link told him.

"No, no, yes, they are," Cockroach said quickly. "It's only the animating force inside them that is alien."

"Knock it off," growled Monger, who was creeping forward, a rifle at the ready. There was a sudden bang from off to the side, and he whirled, weapon raised and aimed at the farmhouse. "Show yourself!"

Susan's heart was in her mouth as she looked over at the farmhouse, but it was silent. Then she felt a heavy blow on her back, making her stumble forwards.

"There it is!" Link shouted.

"I got this, guys!" Bob called. "Feeding time!"

Regaining her balance, Susan spun around just as Bob stretched himself up and wrapped his body around the pumpkin. He slithered inside its mouth as Susan aimed a powerful kick. The creature suddenly expanded, and exploded the moment her foot contacted it, knocking her down on the ground.

"Bloody hell," Cockroach breathed, wiping orange pulp off his face. The pumpkin had gone, and in its place was a glowing blue-green blob, hovering in the air. The blob started spinning, compressing and growing brighter, and then suddenly shot up into the air, arcing out into the night sky and vanishing.

"This is Monger! Get a trace on the unknown object that just launched from 37 degrees 43 minutes 27 seconds north by 121 degrees 2 minutes 5 seconds west, stat! Pronto! Asap! Now!" The general turned to the others. "Casualties, Doctor?"

"I'm not that sort of doctor," Cockroach pointed out.

"Anybody hurt?" Link asked.

"Not hurt, no," Susan said, sitting up and pulling a chunk of mutated pumpkin out of her hair. "Just covered in goo yet again. At least there are no news cameras here this time."

"What on earth did you do, Bob?" Cockroach asked.

"Well, the pumpkins like candy, so I gave them all the leftover ones I'd collected," Bob explained.

"Brilliant, Bob!" Cockroach exclaimed. "You were listening to me after all!"

"I was what now?" the brainless mass asked, scratching its head with three different arms. "I was just trying to spoil its dinner so it wouldn't eat Susie."

"Well, it worked brilliantly," Susan said with a huge smile.

"This is fascinating," Xalthazar said, aiming a scanner at the debris. "It's some form of disembodied intelligence that acts in a similar way to Benzoate Ostylezene Bicarbonate's cytoplasmic matrix. A central control nexus, and slave units. Possibly all part of a single organism or hive mind."

"May I take a look at those readings?" Cockroach asked, and soon he and the alien liaison were busy discussing technical readouts.

"Monsters, I have the current casualty figures for this alien attack," Monger announced, shutting off his radio.

"How many, General?" Link asked.

"Seven deaths, thirty-two injuries," Monger reported quietly.

"That many?" Susan gasped, shocked.

"Most of them were children, as well," the general added.

"Oh my god…" she whispered. "Were we… too late?"

Monger shook his head. "You prevented many more casualties. Ginormica, you saved dozens of lives tonight. I'm… proud of you. You have justified my faith in you." He saluted, and Susan saluted back.

"Thank you, General. That means a lot to me. I… I only wish I could have saved more."

"It's gonna cause a stink in the papers," Link said. "The President's gonna get attacked, and we'll probably get blamed as well. Monsters, aliens—most people can't tell the diff. We're all freaks to them. I'm gonna get cleaned up—get this mutated muck off me."

"I'd rather like a shower myself," Susan said, holding her top out to let a piece of pumpkin shell slide out from her cleavage. "That's twice I've been plastered with pumpkin goo now."

"That's a negative on the shower, Ginormica," Monger told her. "No showers available."

Susan watched Link take a quick dive into the ornamental pond by the farmhouse, and felt a brief flash of resentment at being too big to fit, before she realised that the water would be rather cold indeed. The way that Link shot out of the pond, his teeth chattering, reassured her on that score.

"Yowza, that was crisp," he exclaimed.

"No wonder," Cockroach gasped, looking at the pond more closely. "There's a layer of ice on it!"

"Ice?" Susan asked. "You sure?"

"A thin layer, yes."

"The temperature in the vicinity is fluctuating," Xalthazar noted, looking at one of his devices. "I am reading currents or pockets of extremely cold air."

"Any ideas as to their cause?" Cockroach asked while Susan crouched down and held Link firmly in her hands to help him warm up.

The alien liaison shook his bulbous head. "Any number of potential causes. Something seems to be sucking the thermal energy out of this area in extremely localized and random patterns."

"Is it the alien thing?" Bob asked.

"I would assume so," Xalthazar said. "That is, presuming such a phenomenon is not typical of this planet."

"No… not typical at all," Link stammered, shivering.

"Especially not in Modesto," Susan added. She looked around nervously. "This place gives me the creeps. Can we go now?"

"Base, this is Monger. Any information on the alien presence?" Monger asked.

There was a brief pause, then the reply came. "Negative, general. We lost the trace shortly before it left the atmosphere. It could have left our planet all together, or it could be just waiting, out in space."

Monger muttered some Korean swear words he had picked up in the war, and switched the radio off.

"Well, at least we stopped the immediate threat, sir," Susan said, trying to lighten his mood. She shivered again as a cold breeze blew up her skirt. "And I really would like to get out of here. It feels like we're being watched."

"Not by Farmer Jeb," Bob noted. "I found his eyeballs on the ground by the barn."

"Oh gross," Susan exclaimed. "You didn't need to tell us that."

"Actually yes he did," Monger said. "We'll get a cleanup crew in here stat, and take him away for a decent burial—eyes and all. You didn't happen to see his skin anywhere around, did you?"

"Nope, no skin. Want me to look?"

"Good idea," the general told him, and Bob slithered off.

Susan turned pale, and stood up, letting Link down onto the ground first. She took a number of deep breaths, trying to calm herself. "I think I need some air," she muttered. "I have to get out of here."

"Ginormica, I detected some interesting residue over in the field behind that structure," Xalthazar told her, pointing at a large barn. "If you could check that out, it could be useful."

"Just so long as I don't have to check out anyone's skin," Susan said, shuddering. She walked over the barn, and headed behind it. There was a large circular area of dirt that looked as if it had been plucked clean of every single living thing. Around it were dead grasses and withered pumpkin vines, but inside the circle everything had been removed.

"I'd say this is where the UFO landed," Susan said to herself as she carefully walked around the perimeter. She bent down and poked the soil. "Looks like plain old dirt. Maybe Xalthy's gadgets can detect something. I sure can't."

She adjusted her balance, moving her feet slightly. There was a slight clunk by her left foot, and something small and white rolled out onto the bare soil.

"Is that something alien?" Susan wondered, taking a closer look. It stopped rolling, and the giantess scrambled backwards, her heart in her mouth. It was a human skull. Susan gasped in horror, and then felt a cold shiver run up her spine. She could feel a presence—she was not alone out here. Her heart beating, she slowly turned her head, terrified of what she might see.

* * *

A titanic scream suddenly filled the air, echoing off the buildings.

"My God! That's Susan!" Cockroach dropped his clipboard and sped towards her as fast as he could, followed more slowly by the rest. He shot around the barn and saw her lying semi-prone on the ground, staring at something in front of her. "Susan! Susan my dear! What is it?"

Susan just pointed. Cockroach looked over the soil and saw something white. He scuttled over and picked it up, turning it over. It was a small skull. A human skull. He shuddered, and carefully replaced it back on the ground.

"Come on, Susan, let's go. We'll leave this for the authorities."

"I saw… I saw… I saw…." Susan stammered, her face pale.

"What did you see, my dear?" Cockroach asked, his voice full of concern.

"A… a… ghost," Susan whispered. "A ghost!"

"Are… are you sure, my dear?" Cockroach asked as the others came up.

"What is it?" Monger asked. In answer, Cockroach just pointed to the skull, and kept stroking Susan's hand. The wind picked up briefly, rustling the grass, and chilling the area.

"Hey guys! There're some funny white sticks over here," Bob sang out.

"Cockroach, you take care of Susan. Link, see what Bob has found," Monger said, carefully picking up the skull and examining it.

"I think he might have found a murder victim," Link said. "There's a whole skeleton here."

"Farmer Jeb might have deserved his skinning," Monger said with a grim face, taking a look. "Judging by its size, this skeleton is from someone young."

"A girl," Susan said softly. "I… I saw her."

"You saw her? When?"

"Just now," Susan whispered, hugging her arms around her, her eyes darting around anxiously.

"What do you mean?"

"General, this isn't the time!" Cockroach hissed. "Poor Susan's had a terrible shock."

"We need to know," Monger said. "This could be a manifestation of the alien intrusion. Or it could be—"

His words were cut off by a low screech and gust of warm wind as Insectosaurus landed.

"Oh, Insecto!" Susan jumped up and threw herself at the cuddly monster, burying her face in the moth's long soft fur.

Cockroach sighed. He didn't blame her for seeking solace elsewhere: Susan needed to be held, to be hugged, and he simply wasn't big enough.

"What's gotten into her, seriously?" Monger muttered. "She's seen skeletons before—Nancy Archer's."

"Well, she was the one who discovered Jeb's skinned body, remember," Cockroach said. "Out here, alone, on a deserted farm. Then there have been the strange temperature drops and noises, and things moving when there is no wind." He looked around, seeing the great staring empty eyes of the barn windows, and beyond it, the still, silent farmhouse, glowing coldly white in the moonlight. "It's not exactly the most warm, relaxing place in the world. And then she discovers this skeleton, again on her own."

"You think we should just leave her be?" Monger asked.

"Give her a bit of time, yes," Cockroach said.

"Guys, I hate to interrupt, but I think I just saw something," Link said, his voice quavering slightly.

"What?"

"Well, maybe it's just the dark, and my eyes playing tricks on me, and what Susan said, but…" he trailed off.

"But what?"

"But it kinda… looked like a girl."

"A girl? What was she doing?"

"Just… standing there. Looking at us. Only... she wasn't really there. I could see the barn right… uh, right through her."

"Right, I think we've all had about enough stories of monsters and ghosts for one night," Monger said with a sigh. "Too much sugar and excitement on Halloween has got you seeing spooks. Look, there is no… such thing… as…" he trailed off, staring in shock.

"Ghosts…" Cockroach finished for him, as the faint blue outline of a girl flickered in front of them, like a candle guttering in the breeze, and the air dropped several degrees. A cold wind sprang up as the apparition slowly glided across the grass, its arms out towards them.

...

* * *

**NOTES:** The coordinates Monger gives are correct for the hypothetical location of Farmer Jeb's farm. Apart from that, there aren't many notes as this chapter contains a surprising dearth of fun facts. It's also fairly short for me, just over 2,500 words. This was originally ideally supposed to be published by Halloween, but I ended up missing that deadline by quite some time. Never mind—there'll always be another Halloween.

There are a few minor issues I want to work out with the next chapter, so that'll be a few days away at least. In the meantime, Happy New Year to my readers, and please let me know how you think it's going so far...

(Published 1-1-14)


	7. Garden of Shadows

**7. Garden of Shadows**

"Help me…."

Like the faintest zephyr, words came from the pale blue figure of the young girl.

"Oh. My. God…" Cockroach stammered, taking a step back.

"Fascinating," Xalthazar muttered. "And somewhat unexpected."

"Stay back!" Link called out, assuming a judo stance. "I know karate!"

"Hi there!" Bob called. "Are you here to destroy us?"

The apparition flickered out of existence, and the cold breeze stopped.

"Where'd it go?" Monger called.

"Quiet, General!" Cockroach hissed, holding up a hand. He pulled out his alien scanner, and swept the area. "Nothing," he said with a grimace.

"Let me try this," Xalthazar said, holding out a smaller device. He aimed it out and pressed a button. A network of blue beams spread over the area in front of them, flickering rapidly. In one area the beams turned red. "Energy pattern in sector seven-beta," the alien said.

"What does that mean?" Monger barked.

"It means our apparition, whatever it is, is not a hallucination," Cockroach told him.

"Stay clear," Monger told them. He drew his sidearm, and approached the area Xalthazar had indicated. "All right! We have you surrounded! Come out with your hands up!" he ordered. A gust of cold wind swept by him.

"Energy pattern moving," Xalthazar said, turning his detector. "Now in sector ten-gamma. Thataway," he added, pointing.

"All right, you alien… thing!" Monger shouted. "Stay still! Ginormica, get down here!"

Susan reluctantly left the warm, comforting embrace of the massive insect. "What is it, General?" she asked, looking around nervously. "Have you found something?"

"Unknown detected. Possible alien life form. Assumed hostile. Be ready," Monger barked, staring straight ahead and not looking at her.

"Doc?" Susan asked, crouching down. "What is it?"

"We don't really know, my dear," he told her. "We detected an energy signature, and Xalthazar can localize it. But we can't see it at the moment."

"Scan complete. Adjusting containment parameters now," Xalthazar said, twisting a dial on his device. The network of beams contracted, forming a glowing cage. "We have it," he announced.

"Good work," Monger said, relaxing his stance. He looked at the energy cage again. It was empty. "Wait, where'd the alien go?"

"Nowhere," Xalthazar said. "It is still contained. The energy manifestation can change its atomic vibration frequency, making it essentially invisible. The manifestation remains, however."

"Hey, did ya hear that?" Link asked, holding up a hand.

"What?" Monger asked.

"That," Link said. This time they all heard it: a low, muffled sob.

"Was that a…" Cockroach muttered, but Link shushed him. The sob was repeated, louder, and now they could hear a quiet moaning whimper.

"It's a girl! General, she's terrified!" Susan exclaimed. Her earlier fear was forgotten—whatever this creature was, it was plainly far more afraid of them than they were of it. She crouched down, getting her head low. Now the cries were even clearer.

"Oh, she's so scared!" Susan whispered. "Don't be scared, please. My name's Susan. I won't hurt you. Promise. I know I might look kinda big and scary, but I'm not. None of us are. Honest. That's Link, that's Bob, and this handsome guy is Jacques—I mean Doc… I mean Dr Cockroach."

"PhD," Cockroach added quietly behind her.

The sobs kept coming. Then Susan could hear a small, terrified voice.

"Please… help me. What happened? I want my father…."

"Don't cry, please," Susan whispered. "I promise, we won't hurt you."

"What happened? Where am I?"

"You're in a confinement cube," Xalthazar told her.

"What? Why? Am I under arrest?" the disembodied voice asked. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

"No, no indeed young lady," Monger quickly said, holstering his weapon. "I apologise about the confinement. We weren't quite sure what you were. We thought you might be the alien presence that, er, caused all this damage."

"Where are you from?" Cockroach asked. "Which planet did you come from?"

"I'm… which planet? I'm… I'm from Modesto."

"I'm from Modesto too," Susan added with a reassuring smile. "Whereabouts in Modesto do you live?"

"I… I live here, with my father," the girl's voice said quietly.

"What's your name? My name's Susan."

"You're… you're the giantess, Ginormica, from the news?"

Susan nodded, and smiled warmly, hoping that the girl wasn't referring to news of her rampage in Vegas. "Yup. But call me Susan."

Susan thought she could see a shape, vaguely humanoid. It was barely visible, flickering in and out of existence, then gradually solidified, revealing itself to be a young girl in her early teens, wearing a short black frock. Her form was solid, but with colours so washed out as to be almost monochrome, and she was glowing faintly blue. At the same time, the air seemed to drop in temperature several degrees, and Susan felt a chill run up her spine.

"I'm Renee… Renee Geist. Please, have you seen my father?"

"Who's your father?" Susan asked.

"My father's Jebediah Geist."

"Jebediah? You mean Farmer Jeb?" Susan gasped.

The young girl nodded. "Please, where is he? What has happened to me? I'm scared. I feel cold."

"Oh dear," Cockroach muttered, his antenna quivering. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear."

Susan bit her lip. This wasn't going to be easy. "What's the last thing you remember?" she asked gently.

"I… I was outside, in the pumpkin field. I was… I saw… I saw something…" the girl said nervously.

"What sort of thing, Renee?" Susan asked, giving her a reassuring smile.

"It was… like a flying saucer," Renee said. "I remember…. It flew low, really low. And hovered right over me. A hatch opened on the bottom. I thought I was going to be abducted. But something… something came out. There was a bright light, blinding me, and a great pressure, and… and that's all I remember. Please, what's happened to me? Why am I glowing like this? Where's my father?"

"Er, Miss Geist, I'm afraid your father's had... er, an accident. So have you," Cockroach explained.

"An accident?" Renee asked, her voice quivering. Her figure became very faint and hard to see, then gradually solidified again. Susan felt a chill wash over her, and a shiver ran down her spine.

"I'm afraid so," Susan said. "I'm so sorry, but your father…."

"Is he hurt? In hospital?"

Susan bit her lip, and was unable to stop herself from weeping in sympathy. She shook her head sadly.

The girl looked at her, and moaned in anguish, fading completely away from sight.

"Renee? I'm so sorry. There was an invasion by aliens: they attacked the whole town. Many people died."

"Including your father, I'm sorry to say, young lady," Monger added.

Nothing could be seen of the ghostly girl, but the sound of weeping made it clear she was still there.

"I'm so sorry," Susan said, trying to stop her own tears with little success.

"And what's wrong with me?" came a voice out of the darkness. "Why do I look like this? Am I ill?"

"Hey guys, I found the dead man's skin! It's inside the barn," Bob said, joining them. "Woah, who's crying? Is it the dead girl? Why is the dead girl crying? Hey, did you say something to upset the dead girl? Because that's not nice."

"Quiet, Bob!" Susan hissed.

A freezing wind blew across the withered crops, and Susan realised that Renee was visible once more, more clearly than ever.

"Dead girl?" she asked, her voice hollow and distant, almost echoing. "So… I'm dead too, am I?"

"No, no. Well, yes, but… it's not quite that simple," Cockroach said, looking embarrassed.

"I'm—we're not really sure. I mean, you're here, talking with us, so you're not dead, not as such…" Susan tailed off.

"Comparison of the skeleton with your current appearance shows a high correlation," Xalthazar noted. "Your corporeal body is quite definitely dead."

There was a low, pitiful moan. "So… I'm a… a… a ghost, then?"

"Hey, being undead isn't all bad, you know," Susan hastened to say. "One of my best friends was undead. She was a vampire."

"A v—vampire? You're kidding me…."

"We're all monsters, and believe me, you're one of the more normal ones here," Susan added, smiling gently. "I'm a fifty-foot giantess, Link's a strange fish-ape from the dawn of human history, Doc's a mad scientist who experimented on himself, Bob's a… er, blob, Insecto's an irradiated monster moth—oh, and so cute and fluffy! You'll just love her!—and Monger's a cyborg. So yeah, compared to all that, a ghost is pretty, well, normal, I guess."

"And you're all the… the m-monsters that were on the news?" the new girl asked, her voice barely audible. "The ones that fought the aliens?"

"We are, my dear," Cockroach said. "Monster Force, at your service!"

"So what do you want with me? What's going to happen to me?" Renee asked, her image flickering.

"General, what are we going to do about her, about Renee?" Susan asked.

"Ooh, can we keep her, can we keep her?" Bob asked excitedly.

"Quiet, soldier," Monger growled. "I'm trying to think."

"Please, don't leave me here, don't leave me alone," Renee begged. "I'm scared."

"General, could she come and live with us? At the site?" Susan asked. "I mean, she is a mon—she is one of us now, after all."

Monger scratched his ear. "Miss Geist, do you have any other family members?"

The ghost shook her head. "My mother died two years ago, sir. It was just my father and me."

"Grandparents?"

"Maybe, but they're in Austria."

"Hmmm. How old are you, child?"

"Fourteen, sir. I'll be fifteen next March. Or… at least I would have been…."

"You still will be, don't worry," Susan told her firmly. "I would love it if you could come and live with us, you know. We could be like sisters. I never had a sister, or a brother."

"Me either," Renee said, becoming more visible again. She looked up at Susan's face, hovering above her, and managed a slight smile.

"In that case," Monger said, "I believe that as she has no other family, it would be possible for the United States Army to act _in loco parentis_."

"What does that mean?" Susan asked.

"We'll be her legal guardians," Monger explained. "Technically, she doesn't need legal guardians, since she's dead, a monster, but, er, uh, I think she'd be better off with people who understand her, ah, unique situation."

"General, she's not a prisoner, is she?" Susan asked nervously. "I mean, she didn't, er…."

Monger shook his head. "No, she will not be a prisoner. She would be a ward of the state."

"Like an orphan," Cockroach added. "Well, uh, Renee, you are, essentially. You might be technically dead, but to us, you're as alive as any one of us."

"How long would I have to live with you… with you people, in the base?" the ghost asked.

"As long as you like," Monger told her. "Think of it as a hotel you never have to leave. When you turn eighteen—or rather, in four years from now, since you will never age—you will be able to leave whenever you like."

"That sounds nicer than what I was first told," Susan said with a wry smile.

"Hmph," Monger said. "Maybe. At any rate, in the meantime, Miss Geist here can be a ward of the Monster Force."

"So can we start by letting her out of this cell?" Susan asked, gesturing towards the glowing forcebeams.

"I don't see why not," Monger said. "Xalthazar, let her out."

"If you consider it safe, General," the alien said. He made an adjustment, and the beams vanished. As did the ghost.

"Damn! Where'd she get to?" Monger growled, adding a few choice swear words in Vietnamese.

Xalthazar took out his detector, and scanned the area. "She was heading towards the farmhouse. We can catch her there."

"Xalthy, don't use that beam thing," Susan said quickly. "General, perhaps she's just nervous. Perhaps she's just gone to hide in her home, where she feels safe. Let me talk to her, alone. Girl to girl."

"We don't even know if she's still there," Cockroach pointed out. "She could have run away, and be miles away."

"Maybe," Susan admitted. "I don't know. But this is her home, where she lives. I don't think she's going to just run away from everything she knows and trusts."

"Very well," Monger said. "We'll be waiting here. You go and try and talk some sense into her."

"Thanks, General," Susan said, standing up and saluting. She carefully made her way to the farmhouse, stepping over the low white picket fence that set it off from the fields and working areas of the farm. There was no chance of her fitting inside, of course, but Susan could see that the swing seat suspended under the porch roof was rocking gently, even though there was no wind. She knelt down, and peered under the roof.

"Hey, Renee. Don't be afraid. I just want to talk. Look, I don't blame you for running. When I became a monster, I don't know if I wanted to run, because everything happened so fast. I was shot with tranquilizers before I could go anywhere." Susan shivered, remembering the fear and confusion of that fateful day. Then she noticed that the swing had stopped. "Renee? Are you there? Can you hear me?"

There was silence. Susan sighed.

"It's okay to be scared. When my accident happened, I was scared too. I was terrified, in fact. I mean, I was about to get married. I was at the church, at the altar, ready to start my new life." She sighed. "I started a new life all right. Just not quite the one I was expecting."

Then Susan saw a pale glow down near her feet, on the swing seat, which she now noticed was rocking again.

"I know," came the girl's voice. "I read about you in _Time_, you know. And you've been on the news a lot. I know all about you. I thought you were pretty cool. I even wished I could meet you. Just not… not like this. My father's dead…. I'm dead. I'm a ghost. Why couldn't I have died properly with my dad? Why did this have to happen? What am I now? What's going to happen to me?" She burst into tears again.

Susan sighed. "I asked myself that a lot in the first few weeks too. Why the quantonium had to hit me. Why I had to be a freak, ripped from my friends, my family, my life. Imprisoned here, scared, powerless. But you know what? Sometimes what we think is the worst thing possible is actually the opposite. Now I love being a giant, being Ginormica. Thanks to all my new friends."

"My friends will all think I'm dead," Renee sobbed.

"I'd like to be your friend, if you'll let me," Susan said. "I'm not going to ask you not to cry. I cried so much when I arrived. I didn't know what was going to happen, if I could ever leave, ever see my friends and family again. I was in a prison, a prison for monsters, and I was told I could never leave. But you're not going to be a prisoner."

"Are you sure?" Renee asked, her voice shaky.

Susan nodded. "Absolutely. The General isn't a liar. If he says you're not, you're not. Unlike me," she added after a short pause.

A chill swept over Susan as Renee became fully visible.

"I... I heard what you did—what happened," the teenage girl said nervously.

"Yeah, I suppose you would have," Susan admitted, flushing. "I… I don't know what to say about that," she added, sitting up and crossing her legs. "But please, please, I wouldn't dream of ever hurting you. I'm not…. I mean…." Susan sighed. "I try not to be a monster. I mean, I know I look a bit scary on the outside, but inside, I'm just a person. A person who was trying to cope with the extraordinary things that have happened to her. And sometimes… sometimes I couldn't cope." Susan sat up and wiped her eyes, then noticed Renee had vanished again. "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to scare you. Things are different now. It'll be better for you. Better than it was for me. I'll make sure of that."

There was a long silence. Then Susan felt the temperature drop sharply, and saw Renee materialize fully.

"I don't really have any choice, do I?" the teenager asked forlornly. "I can't go anywhere else, because everyone would get freaked out, so I have to join the freaks. Because I am one now."

"And we all watch out for each other," Susan said with a smile. "Would you like to properly meet the others now?"

"Wait… could I… could I see my father, one last time?"

"Oh, Renee, I… I know you really want to. But now isn't really the best time. He was… his body was damaged…."

"What did they do to him?" the ghost asked, her voice quiet. "Tell me!"

Susan paused. "Umm…. I'm not so sure that's a good idea. He was… uh…."

"Tell me, dammit!" the girl shrieked.

Susan swallowed hard. "Renee, I'm so sorry… they skinned him. I'm really sorry."

"They… they skinned him?"

"I'm sure it would have been very quick, he wouldn't have suffered or anything…."

There was a brief silence, and then a blazing flash of light blinded them all. Blinking in the glare, Susan saw a figure burning a brilliant blue-white, lighting up the entire area. And in the middle of it was Renee, and it looked to Susan almost like her face had transformed into a skull with burning red eyes. As quickly as it had appeared, the blinding light was over, and the pale ghostly girl was standing there.

"I'll kill them! Those bastards!" she hissed.

Susan gasped, and shivered. Not from cold this time, but fear. She had caught a glimpse of something terrifying, almost demonic, and for a brief moment she was very scared. Then her worries vanished as the girl started crying again.

"Oh, God. Why me? What's going to happen to me? What should I do? What am I?"

The ghostly girl faded from sight again, and all Susan could hear was quiet sobbing. "Renee..." she started. Then she stopped. She wanted to hug the weeping girl, but not only was she a giant, unable to properly hug anyone, the girl was invisible. "If there's anything I can do for you, anything at all, let me know," she said.

"If I go with you, live with you…. What's it like? Your home? You said it's not a prison anymore, right?"

Susan shook her head. "No. Not any more. It's much nicer now. I mean, When I was taken, the government just wanted me locked away. They didn't care about my comfort, my happiness, anything like that. All I got was a bare cell, with a tiny little kitten poster."

"That's horrible!"

"Yeah, it wasn't really pleasant," Susan agreed. She smiled, and looked down at the porch. "Still, Doc soon fixed that, and now I have a nice cute little room. Well, a cute big room I guess, but it feels cosy to me. Though I don't have my old stuff—that's all in my new room at my parents' place. Oh, except for Pussy-Boots…."

"Pussy-Boots?"

"My stuffed Puss-in-Boots doll, from when I was little kid," Susan confessed, blushing slightly.

"You kept your old doll?" Renee asked, and Susan could hear the sceptical surprise in her voice.

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"Okay, that's cool. It's just that it's not quite how I, er, pictured you," Renee admitted. There was a drop in temperature and a chill breeze as the ghostly girl materialized again. "I didn't really think you'd be so… uh…."

"Soppy? Girly?" Susan asked, smiling. "Hey, I may look big and tough, but inside, I'm still plain old Susan Murphy. A normal girl from Modesto."

"Modesto. Why is it always Modesto? Why do bad things keep happening in this nothing little town?" Renee asked glumly.

"You mean all the alien stuff? Well, the first meteorite, the one that hit me, did this to me, well that was a fluke. Then Gallaxhar came here as he was tracking me. And Doc reckons that the alien thing this time had detected either the remnants of the quantonium meteorite or Gallaxhar's ship."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't mind if they wiped this place off the map, so long as… so long as nobody got hurt. Or killed…."

"I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better," Susan said with a sigh. "I know it's not the same, but I sort of know how you feel. I lost a good friend not so long ago."

"And how did you deal with that?" Renee asked.

Susan bit her lip. "Badly," she admitted. "About as badly as possible. I… got angry. I got really, really angry. And when someone like me gets angry…."

"Whoa, that was that?" Renee asked.

"What was what?"

"Your rampage, in Vegas—that was you getting angry about your friend?"

Susan sighed deeply, and nodded. "Yeah. I totally lost it then. The cops shot her, for no good reason, and so I just… I just flipped. I couldn't think straight any more. All I knew was, I was a monster, and I wanted them dead." She swallowed hard. "And I made them dead," she added in a small voice.

"I'd like to make the things that killed my father dead," Renee said in a cold voice. "I'd like to make them very dead indeed."

"We'll find them, don't worry," Susan said. "Nobody kills little children in my town and gets away with it."

"I'm fourteen—I'm not a little child," Renee said hotly.

Susan glanced down at her and gave a sad smile. "I'm not talking about you."

"Ohhh…" The ghost flickered and faded briefly, then solidified again. "How many?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Too many. Seven. I'm not sure how many of those were children, but Monger said most were."

"Why?" Renee gasped.

"It seems they were after the sugar in the candy—that was their fuel."

"So what were they doing here? Why did they come?"

Susan sighed. "No idea. None." Her face darkened, her expression hardening. "We're going to find out, though. And then we are going to find them and we are going to kick their butts!"

...

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** The title for this chapter comes from the haunting song "Come Little Children, I'll Take Thee Away" on YouTube by Erutan. "Come Little Children, The Time's Come To Play, Here In My Garden Of Shadows..."

Renee Geist's name is not remotely random. "Renee" is from the French for "Rebirth," "Born again," and "Geist" is the German for "Spirit." It is also used as surname in Germanic nations. In fact I had to go back (a few months before posting this) and change the name of Susan's friend Renee to Vanessa as I wanted to use Renee for this character.

Her age, fourteen, is the same as Susie Salmon's from The Lovely Bones, which I finally got around to watching last week. I wasn't at all sure how old Renee should be, but decided in the end that Susie's age was fine. It's also the same age Mary was when she died, which will help to contrast the two characters - who are intended to be very different indeed, and play different roles in Susan's character growth.


	8. Dead Like Me

**8. Dead Like Me**

"Ginormica!"

Susan turned as the cyborg general flew up to her. "Sir?"

"Have you spoken with Miss Geist? Where is she?"

"She's right here, General," Susan said. "On the porch."

"Oh, so she is. Well, is she cooperative? Well, Miss Geist, are you ready to leave?"

"I'm scared," the girl said. "I don't think I want to leave my home after all. I want to stay here."

"I'm afraid that won't work, my dear," Cockroach said. "In a few months, there'll be another family living here."

"I won't let that happen," Renee said petulantly. "I'll... I'll haunt them! I'll drive them away!"

"Renee, think about it," Susan said. "If you did that, you'd be alone for ever. You wouldn't like that. If you come with us, you'll be among friends, people who'll accept you. And we can try and make things better for you. I know none of us would want to have to live alone, trying to deal with people who don't understand us, who don't like us."

"Who think we're monsters," Link added. "Because we are. We're what children have nightmares about, the bad guys in fairy tales, and there's nowhere out there for us."

"Link!" Susan exclaimed. "Don't scare her!"

"No, he's right," the young ghost said sadly, wiping her eyes. "I have no home anymore. I have no family, no body, nothing."

"You have a new home, a new family," Susan told her. "And we'll try and make things as nice as we can. Hey, General," she added, looking over at Monger, "I've got an idea. Why don't we let Renee take some of her things with her, so she can have them in her new home?"

"Hmm." The General scratched his chin. "You think that will make the transition easier?"

"A lot easier than what I got," Susan replied. "Those first nights in my cell were…. We can't do that to her," she finished, carefully not thinking about the nightmare she had experienced on her arrival.

"Very well. Miss Geist, we shall relocate your effects to your new, ah, room in Area 52. Will that help?"

"I suppose," Renee said in a quiet voice. "In that case, yeah, I might as well."

"Yay!" Bob shouted, slithering up. "A new friend! Group hug, everybody!"

Renee jumped backwards in shock as the amorphous blob slid rapidly towards her. Susan gasped as Renee fell straight through the door and landed inside, her legs sticking out from the bottom of the wooden panel. Then there was a sudden scream from inside the house.

"My legs! What's happened to my legs!"

"Renee, my dear, don't worry," Cockroach said. "You're fine! Just stand up!"

The legs vanished, and then Susan heard a low moan. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"I… I think so. My legs are here," Renee said. "What the hell just happened?"

"You're a ghost, my dear," Cockroach said matter-of-factly. "Ghosts can walk through walls."

"Or fall through them," Monger added, raising an eyebrow.

"Miss Geist, can you hear me?" Cockroach asked.

"Uh, yes, yes sir, I can hear you," came the girl's voice.

"Can you come out the same way?"

"You mean… through the door?"

"Yes. If you would be so kind."

"I'll… I'll try," Renee said.

There was a brief pause, and then Renee's blue-white figure appeared in front of the door, passing through it as if it were no more substantial than mist.

"Woah," Link breathed.

"I thought as much," Cockroach said with a faint trace of smugness. "The Pauli exclusion principle does not apply to apparitions, wouldn't you say, Xalthazar?"

"If by that you mean the principle that no two atomic particles can occupy the same quantum state, then definitely," the tall alien said, eyeing her curiously. "Very rare indeed."

"I'd love to run some tests," Cockroach added, stroking his slim moustache thoughtfully.

"Tests?" Renee asked, her eyes wide, looking from Cockroach to Monger with fear.

"Shut up, Doc," Monger said. "Don't talk about tests now. We need to get back to base. The cleanup team will be here soon, to say nothing of the civilian police and media and all that. Miss Geist, follow me."

But Renee just stood there, not moving.

"Miss Geist?" Monger repeated.

"Uh, what about my things?" Renee asked. "I don't want to leave my things behind."

"General? Renee's things—you said she can have them, right?" Susan added.

"She can't carry them all now," the general pointed out. "I'll send a team out later tonight, along with MF1 to carry everything in."

"Can't I just get my iPhone and iPad?" Renee begged.

Monger rolled his eyes. "Hurry up. We don't have long before the media trace us here, and I would prefer to avoid any excess publicity."

"Thanks!" Renee said. She vanished through the door again while the other monsters waited. A few minutes later there was a short scream from a second-floor window.

"What the hell was that?" Link asked as they all headed out to the garden.

"Susan, can you see her?" Cockroach asked. "Is she all right?"

Susan knelt upright and peered into the windows. "I see her! She's fine!" She eased a fingernail under the sash and gently forced the window open. "Renee! What's the matter?"

"I can't touch it!" the girl called. "I can't pick anything up!"

"Oh. No, perhaps not," Susan said quietly. "Don't worry, I'll get the Doc to get them for you!" she added quickly, trying to reassure the frightened young girl.

Renee nodded, and left, reappearing outside a moment later.

"The door's locked," Monger reported, trying it. "You don't happen to have the key?"

Renee shook her head. "My… my father had it," she said softly.

"Can't be helped," Monger said. "Ginormica, if you please."

"Me? Uh, okay. Uh, Renee, better stand back," Susan said, putting her finger by the doorknob. She pushed gently, and the door suddenly flew open with the sound of splintering wood. "Sorry about that," she added, seeing Renee's startled face.

"Well, Miss Geist, would you care to show me to your room?" Monger asked.

"Huh? My room? Uh, sure." She glanced up at Susan.

"I think I'd better wait here," the giantess said with a smile. "I don't think I could fit inside."

"Yeah, unless you wanted to rip the roof right off," Link said, grinning.

"Could she—could you do that?" Renee asked, her eyes wide.

"Actually, I guess I could," Susan admitted. "I'm pretty strong for a girl."

"You're pretty strong for a freight locomotive," Link quipped.

"Stop gabbing," Monger ordered. "Miss Geist, please, show us to your room."

Susan sat on the lawn and watched through the windows as the others arrived in Renee's bedroom. She sighed as she thought how she could never enter another house again. Always on the outside, looking in at everyone…. _No, no, Susan_, she told herself. _You're not going down that road again. You knew what the consequences of your choice would be. You accepted them. You wanted to be Ginormica, with all her advantages and disadvantages. Remember what the President told you. You accept the small sacrifices as you can do more good with your power. You're happier, more fulfilled now, than you ever expected to be._ So Susan just leaned her elbow on the porch roof and gazed through the open window at her friends, who were collecting rather more things than just a couple of electronic devices, while the ghost of Renee stood in the middle directing them.

"Okay, that is finally it!" Monger eventually declared, his arms full. "Next you'll be wanting us to take the bed as well!"

"Wait, I need to get some clothes!" Renee called.

"Actually, I don't think you'll need any, my dear" Cockroach said.

"What do you mean, I won't need clothes?" Renee asked, a horrified expression on her pale blue-white face.

"Ghosts don't wear clothes," Monger explained.

"Apart from a sheet," Bob added. "Do you want a sheet? I could give you a sheet, but Link can't. He keeps saying he couldn't give a sheet."

"Damn straight," Link said with a grin.

"You mean… I'm stuck wearing this dress for the rest of my life?" Renee said, staring in horror at her simple old-style frock.

"Eternity, probably," Cockroach noted unhelpfully.

Renee grasped her ghostly gown and pulled the hem up. It lifted easily, and she quickly let it drop down again before her panties were revealed.

"Well, you can probably interact with it, or remove it," Cockroach admitted. "It wouldn't actually be attached to you. But it's the only thing you can wear, I'm afraid."

"This…. For the rest of my life?" Renee sighed, fading from sight.

"You have no physical being any more," Cockroach said to the air, looking around to see where she might be. "You have nothing physical to support the clothing. Without a surrounding body, you're pure spirit."

"Link loves spirits, don't you Link?"

"Only the liquid sort, Bob," the fish-ape explained patiently. "And only after talking with you for too long."

"Okay guys, enough," Susan called. "Don't freak her out."

"Enough is right. Come on, we need to get going," Monger told them. "Miss Geist? Where are you?"

Renee reappeared by her bedroom door. "I'm ready, sir," she said. "And, uh, thank you."

"No problem. You're one of us now," Link said, clapping her on the back. His hand went straight through her. "Woah, that felt weird!" he exclaimed. "All tingly."

"Tingly? Really?" Cockroach asked, holding out his hand. "My dear, may I?"

"Cockroach! This is not the time to be trying to grope inside young women! Get moving!" Monger barked.

Susan laughed, and a few moments later the others were coming out the front door, carrying several large armfuls each.

"They never did this for us in the old days," Link groused, carrying several stuffed pillowcases. "Tossed us in with nothing, they did. Didn't do us any harm."

"Well, wouldn't you have wanted your things?" Susan asked, standing up and following them. "I mean, if you had any?"

Link shrugged. "I don't really remember. It was a long time ago."

"Stop dawdling," Monger said. "We need to head back to base. Insecto's waiting. Xalthazar, you'll join me in the chopper."

"Can't I say goodbye to my parents?" Susan asked.

"Negative," Monger told her. "By now the entire area will be swarming with the press, and I want to keep you out of their sights for a while."

"I understand, sir," Susan said with a sigh. "Come on, Renee, I'll introduce you to Insecto."

"The huge moth creature, right?" Renee asked. "I saw her on the news too."

"Good, then you won't react like Giny here did," Link said.

"How was that?"

"I screamed at the top of my lungs and ran," Susan admitted. "But don't worry, Insecto wouldn't hurt a fly. She's so gentle and sweet."

"Uh, okay, well, if you say so," Renee said, sounding less enthusiastic as they got closer to the massive insect. "It's… really big…."

"And really gentle. Aren't you, Insecto?"

The massive insect let out a roar that rattled the windows. Renee jumped. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"Absolutely," Susan said. "She's just a big cuddly kitty, in a way. And she's helped me through some tough times…. When I was feeling alone, isolated, when I couldn't deal with my anger… she was always there for me, never judging, never criticizing. Weren't you, big girl?" she finished, rubbing the massive insect's fur.

Insectosaurus gave a low rumble, and thumped one of her legs on the ground. Renee jumped, but Susan laughed. "That just means she's happy," she explained. "Come on!"

"How do I get up there?"

"Want to ride on my hand?" Susan asked.

"Uh… is it safe?"

"Absolutely. Hop on."

Renee gingerly moved towards the giantess, and reached for her thumb. But her hands went straight through it. The teenager grabbed again, and her hands went straight through again.

"I—I can't! I can't touch you!"

"Oh. Maybe I can sort of scoop you up," Susan suggested, but her own hand went straight through Renee.

"This is most interesting," Xalthazar said, observing them. "I find it curious that her substance passes through walls and fingers yet not through the ground."

"Good heavens, that's right," Cockroach said. "How is it that you do not fall through the ground?"

Xalthazar took out a small device and adjusted a dial on it, then aimed it at Renee, who was standing there looking scared.

"Fascinating. It appears that there is no physical interaction between the apparition and its environment."

"Make sense, tentacles," Link growled. "How can she walk then?"

"Of course. I suspect she only thinks she can walk," Cockroach mused. "My dear, it's possible that your interactions with solid matter are entirely in your mind. The more solid you perceive something as, the more solid it seems to you."

"Huh?" Renee said. "I went right through the door, and doors are pretty solid you know."

"You didn't notice the first time, remember. And doors are things that you already see yourself as 'passing through' anyway."

"So what you're saying, Doc, is that she needs to believe she can touch something before she can touch it?" Link asked.

"Possibly," Cockroach said. "Probably not that simple. I'll have to run some more tests. In the meantime, how do we get her back?"

"I know!" Susan exclaimed. "The swing seat!"

"Explain," Monger ordered.

"I saw her sitting on it earlier," Susan said. "I know she can sit on it, so how about we use that?"

"Go get it," the general told her.

"Good idea. She must unconsciously associate it with impenetrability," Cockroach said.

Susan nodded and headed back to the farmhouse. Renee looked after her, her face a mask. "She's not… dangerous, is she?" she asked Monger. "I mean, I saw on the news what she did…. Heard what people are saying about her."

"Ginormica is in no way dangerous, young lady," Monger told her sternly. "I suggest you not waste time with the media and focus on reality."

"But they said on MSNBC…."

"You will find that people will be just as scared of you," Monger said. "You're a monster now. You're a ghost. And you know how people react to ghosts."

"Who ya gonna call?" Link asked, grinning. "Hey, she's back."

"Here, can you get on?" Susan asked, holding the swing seat low enough for Renee to reach.

The ghost moved across to the seat, and carefully sat down.

"Lift it up, Susan," Cockroach said. "Carefully."

Susan slowly raised the swing, and Renee remained seated on it. "Hey, it works!" she called out.

"Excellent," Cockroach said.

"Right, back to base!" Monger called. "We've wasted too much time already!"

Carrying the swing seat carefully, Susan climbed onboard Insectosaurus, and in a few moments they were flying through the night sky. Renee remained silent the entire trip, gripping the wooden slats of the seat, her face apprehensive. Susan was quiet as well, thinking about the fight with the giant pumpkin creature, and the way people had reacted in fear to her. The trip passed uneventfully, and in a couple of hours they were gliding low over the Nevada desert, heading towards Area 52.

* * *

"Well, here we are," Susan said as the huge door to the command centre slid open. "Home sweet home." She looked briefly around the room, taking in Bob's jungle gym, Cockroach's lab and library, Link's pool area, and, beyond the lab, Insectosaurus's area. It was familiar, comforting. It was home. "This is our living area and main command centre," she added, gesturing. "My room's just through there. There's another couple of main rooms, and Insecto's place is through there."

"And where am I going to live?" Renee asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

"There are personal residential quarters arranged around the main command centre," Monger told her, flying alongside as Susan carried the swing. "You've been assigned to Cell Six, I mean Room Six. This way, if you please."

He landed on the living platform, and retracted his jets. Susan held the swing low enough for Renee to get off, then put it beside Cockroach's lab. In the meantime, Monger led the way to one of the doors on the upper level, which slid open as he approached.

"Is that it?" Renee asked, unable to hide her disappointment. "I have to live here?"

Susan leaned over and peered in. The steel-lined chamber was entirely bare.

"Uh, for the moment, yes," Monger said. "We shall redecorate it soon. We've got plenty of kitten posters, in the meantime. We, er, weren't actually expecting a new resident today, after all."

"It'll be nice when it's done up," Susan said, trying to cheer the young ghost up. "My room's pretty nice. Especially now I've been able to get rid of those silly pink walls. So make sure you tell the General what you'd like."

"I wish I could live in my old room," Renee said with a sigh. "In my own home, with my father."

Susan leant down on her sofa, putting her at head height with the new girl. "I'm so sorry, Renee," she said gently. "I wish you could too. Life sucks sometimes, huh?"

"And death sucks even more," Renee said. "Goddam it. What the hell am I going to do?" She held out her arms, looking at them. "I look like an old photograph! Why? What's happened to me?"

"No idea, sorry," Susan said. "But we will find out." "And remember, whatever happens, we'll be here to help you. We're your family now."

"You're a bunch of freaks," Renee shot.

Susan felt a brief flush of anger at the word, but suppressed it. Renee had just lost her father, her home, and her physical body all at once. It was no wonder she was unstable, wanting to lash out.

"I'm a freak. I'm a dead fucking freak," the ghost added, fading from sight.

"We're all freaks, Renee," Susan said in a soft voice. "We're all weird, bizarre, scary things, things from horror stories come to life. And sometimes that can be hard to deal with. Sometimes people, normal people, make us feel like outcasts. But here, here we're not outcasts, we're not weird, we're not monsters. Nobody here will ever treat you like a… a freak."

"Yeah, maybe. My life is still fucking over, though," Renee said. She was still invisible, and Susan realised her voice sounded different: hollow, almost echoing.

"When I was first brought here, I cried myself to sleep almost every night for a week," Susan told her. "I was told I could never see my friends or family again, never see my fiancé again. I hated this place so, so much. But you know what kept me going, what kept me sane? The other monsters. They didn't let me feel alone, or freakish. It wasn't much, but it made all the difference in the world. And so now it's our turn to help you."

"How? How can you help me? You're all physical, real, alive. You're not dead like me!"

"I know. I wish Mary was still here. She'd be so much better at this, since she was dead, like you. But I guess even she had a body. I don't know, Renee, I really don't know what to say. I just know I want to help you get through this."

There was a long silence. Susan looked around carefully, but couldn't see Renee anywhere. Then she became aware of some low, soft sobbing.

"Hey, are you okay?" Susan asked gently.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine," Renee said, becoming slightly more visible again.

Susan shivered briefly at the drop in temperature.

"Okay, well, If there's anything you need, just, er, let me know," Susan said, feeling rather useless.

"Why do people always say that at funerals?" Renee asked.

"What do you mean?"

"When my mother died, everyone was like 'let me know if there's anything you need.' I mean, everyone, like literally everybody, said the same thing. What the hell could they give me? I needed my mother! I need my father! I need my life back! Can you give me those? Can anyone? So stop asking that stupid fucking question!"

"I'm sorry, Renee," Susan said. "I didn't mean to upset you. Look, it's late. Would you like to get some sleep?"

"Do ghosts even sleep?" Renee asked.

"I honestly don't know," Susan said. "I've never met a ghost before. But I do know vampires sleep, so not being alive doesn't mean you don't need sleep." She yawned. "I don't know if ghosts need sleep, but giantesses do. Look, seriously, are you going to be okay by yourself?"

"I don't have much choice, do I?" Renee said quietly, her earlier anger gone. She sighed, a sound like the wind in distant trees, ethereal and remote. "With Dad gone, I'm all alone now."

"You want to sleep in my room?" Susan asked. "I mean, I've definitely got plenty of room."

Renee shook her head. "No. I mean, no thanks. I think I need to be alone."

"Of course. Just let me know if there's anything I can do to help you settle in. Or even if you just want someone to talk to, you know, I'll always be here for you. Promise."

"Yeah, okay."

"Goodnight, then. Uh… really, it's going to be fine. You're going to be fine."

There was no reply. Renee slowly vanished from sight, and Susan leaned over and carefully pushed the door button to open it. She waited for a few moments, then shut the door with a final whispered "Goodnight."

Susan stood there for a few moments longer. She thought she could hear the young girl crying, and longed to be able to comfort her. But for once, it wasn't her freakish size that was the problem: Renee could never touch another person again. She was doomed to exist in a sort of half-life, in the world and yet not of it; drifting through existence like a cloud through the sky.

Biting back her own tears of sympathy, Susan returned to her room. She took off her zombie cheerleader uniform, which was now much more ripped and tattered after the fight, and lay on her bed, thinking about the events in Modesto. Not about where the alien presence had come from, or what it wanted, but about how people had reacted to her, and, more than anything, about Renee. Susan wondered if Renee wasn't even more scared than she herself had been when she first arrived. After all, when she had been taken here, she at least knew that her parents were still alive, that she herself was still alive. Her world had been snatched away from her, but—apart from the size issue—she herself was still a normal, living, breathing human being. But Renee was dead—Susan had seen her skeleton. Renee had also lost her father, her home, everything she knew, and there was no going back. The young ghost was even more a prisoner than Susan had ever been.

...

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** The Pauli Exclusion Principle is what Xalthazar says it is. Essentially, it's why we can't pass through solid matter. Atoms themselves, the building blocks of matter, are essentially empty space, so you'd imagine it might be possible, but at this scale of matter, physics doesn't work like we might initially imagine. While Xalthazar, being an alien, has not heard the name, he is of course familiar with the underlying principle.

I see no reason why Renee should have to live in a bare cell. She's not a prisoner, after all.

The bit about riding the swing seat is my comment on all those ghosts that pass through solid walls like they were made of air, but somehow can still climb stairs and walk on floors. Does this only operate in the horizontal direction? Possibly, but then many ghosts can float and fly, which implies no real physical bond to this universe. So I've decided it's all a matter of subconscious thought and will. It's a bit unnecessary for story purposes, which is what Monger really means by "We've wasted too much time already!" but half the fun (for me) in writing these stories is working out how the universe works.

Oh, and the title is a homage to the TV series "Dead Like Me," which I found out about while reading about "The Lovely Bones" (which I saw for research on ghosts from the ghost's POV (and am currently reading)), and I found extremely compelling viewing. I really, really liked the relationship between the dead girl, George, and her family (sister, especially). The way the series kept showing how the family was coping with the loss of their daughter/sister, which gave the series the grounding in reality and depth that a pure focus on the reapers would not have.

[Posted 18 Jan 2014]


	9. Questions of Existence

**9. Questions of Existence**

She was cold. The chill slowly penetrated her, and she became dimly aware of a feeling that she was not alone. There was something in the room with her, a presence. Susan felt her heart skip as memories of some of the nightmares of her childhood came back to her. Cautiously opening her eyes, she saw a pale blue glow. Blinking, she focused, and saw the ghost of Renee sitting on the normal-sized sofa by her computer. Susan realized that the chill she had felt was the side-effect of Renee materializing. The clock beside her bed told her it was a bit after two in the morning.

Surprised, she sat up, holding her sheet to her breasts. "Uh, hello Renee," she said. "Um, is anything the matter?"

She saw the girl sigh. "I couldn't sleep. So I figured I'd go and see if you were awake."

"How'd you get in?" Susan asked, then smiled. "Oh, silly question."

"Yeah, silly question," Renee agreed. "I just told myself the door didn't exist, and was able to pass right through it."

"So much for privacy," Susan said with a light laugh. "Not that I have much here anyway."

"Are our rooms bugged?" Renee asked, looking alarmed.

Susan shook her head. "Oh, no. Not any more, at least."

"Not any more?"

"We were constantly monitored in the old prison," Susan explained. "Back when we were considered dangerous monsters. Now, well… things are better."

"Even for you?"

Susan made a face. "Yes, even for this dangerous monster. I'm may be in prison, but I'm here as a human, a member of the armed forces, not some inhuman monster. Even though I am…." With an effort, she stopped herself giving into the self-pity and guilt that were constantly hounding her. "So, Renee, uh, is there anything you want to talk about?"

"Not really," Renee said. "I'm just… I'm a little nervous. I'm… I'm scared."

"Look, I know this place can be scary. It's so big and cold and grey. But once you get used to it, it's not that bad. Monger said he'd get all your things brought from your old room, so it won't be too bad."

"It's not that," Renee said. "What's going to happen to me? What has happened to me? I'm a ghost? Ghosts don't exist! They're fairytales, stories!"

Susan laughed. "A year ago I'd have said giants didn't exist. And now look at me. I don't really know what you are, exactly. But you're Renee Geist, and, well…."

"No I'm not. Renee Geist is dead. That was her skeleton lying on the ground. I don't know what the fuck I am."

"You are Renee, really, you are," Susan said.

"Oh yeah? And how do you know? You didn't even know me before. I could be anyone. I could be an alien, like the one you said was making the pumpkins go mad."

"I… er…. Look, do _you_ think you're Renee? Seriously."

The girl looked down, her expression sullen. "Yeah, I do."

"Then you _are_ Renee. I know being a different form can feel like you're a different person. Renee, I know this, I really do. I mean look at me! How much of this, this body is really me, and how much is this alien stuff? Here I am, hit by a chunk of pure quantonium torn out of an alternative cosmos by Gallaxhar when he exploded his own sun. Which means that part of me isn't even from this universe."

"Yeah, I know," Renee said. She looked up. "I know a lot about you, you know."

"I guess I've been on the news a lot," Susan admitted.

"It wasn't just that. You were from Modesto, you weren't that much older than me, and I… I…. You were kinda my hero, in a way," she admitted.

"Uh, wow, thanks," Susan said, blushing slightly.

"I thought you were so amazingly cool. All that stuff you did. You were so strong. So powerful. So brave. And then… and then you went on that…."

Susan's face fell. "Rampage in Vegas…."

Renee nodded. "I couldn't believe it. I couldn't. But… yeah." She looked up at the giantess as if even now she half-expected her to start destroying things.

Susan looked down at her hands. "Renee, I am so, so sorry about that, about everything, about disappointing you."

"I used to have so many posters of you," Renee said. "Dad made me get rid of all of them."

"Wait, there are posters of me?" Susan asked, her eyes wide. "Sorry, you were saying?" Then she realised Renee was slowly fading, weeping. "Hey, it's going to be okay. You're going to be okay."

"I… I miss my Dad," Renee said. She looked up at Susan. "Do you think there'll be a funeral for him?"

"Sure there will. Uh, do you have any other family?"

Renee shook her head. "Uh-uh. Dad was an only child, and so was I."

"Look, I'll talk to Monger about a funeral. I'm sure he'll be able to arrange it. We had a funeral recently—two, actually. For Nancy and Mary."

"Nancy?"

"Yeah, I'm not the first quantonium giantess, it seems. The first was someone called Nancy Archer, over fifty years ago. She was taken here, and examined. She died… uh, a long time ago," Susan said, deciding to avoid mentioning Cockroach's role. "So we gave her a proper funeral, along with Mary."

"Mary was the vampire?"

Susan nodded. "Yeah."

"Awesome. She must have been so cool. Like, True Blood, or Twilight?"

Susan smiled sadly. "She was cool. But nothing like those. Being a real vampire isn't glamorous, or fun, or anything. It's being constantly worried someone will discover what you are, constantly having to drink blood from people, always alone, always afraid."

"Oh. Worse than a ghost, even," Renee said softly.

"You might be right," Susan said, and sighed. "For one thing, I doubt bullets could hurt you."

Renee looked at her hands, turning them over and over. "I suppose nothing can touch me. And I can't touch anything. Ever again." She slumped down, resting her head in her hands. "I'm dead. My father's dead. I've got no one now…." The ghost started wailing softly, a thin, high lament that filled Susan's heart with sadness.

"I wish I could touch you, comfort you," she said softly. "I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better. But there isn't, and you shouldn't feel better. You've lost everything you ever loved, so of course you feel awful. This isn't the time to bottle it up. Mourn as much as you like."

After a while, as Susan sat there patiently, the moaning died away to the occasional sob, then eventually to silence.

"Hey. Are you going to be okay?" Susan asked softly.

Renee lifted her head up, and Susan could see her face was streaked with tears, glowing softly. "Could I... could I stay here tonight?"

Susan nodded. "Sure. Uh, do you want to share my bed? There's plenty of room, after all."

Renee looked down at the giantess's huge bed, and shook her head. "The sofa's fine. I'll be fine here. I just… I just don't want to be alone…."

"Well, I'm right here," Susan said. "Goodnight, Renee."

"Yeah, you too. Uh, see ya…."

Susan watched as the ghost lay down on the sofa, and slowly faded from sight. Soon the room was dark again, save for the small night light Susan had insisted on. It didn't light up much of the huge room, but she still found it comforting. Turning over onto her other side, she carefully picked up her Pussy-Boots doll, holding him close, remembering when she was young and afraid of the dark, afraid of ghosts and monsters and he was there to comfort and protect her. She wondered if Renee had ever feared monsters—or if she still did.

* * *

The alarm went off at seven, and Susan yawned and stretched. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, then brought her computer back to life. There was an email from her father, which she quickly opened. She smiled as she read his account of the night, and the horrendous mess left behind. Shortly after they had left, the media had, as Monger predicted, swarmed in like a horde of locusts, along with the police, but her parents and the others had stayed inside, refusing all interview requests.

Susan began typing a reply, then shivered.

"Oh, I completely forgot you were here," she said, glancing down at the ghost.

"Do you always sleep naked?" Renee asked, looking up at Susan's bare torso.

The giantess laughed as she covered herself with her sheet. "Making clothing in my size is hard. Took days before I even got panties, and a month for a bra. The army never bothered with giving me pyjamas. So I had to get used to sleeping in the nude. Anyway, I'm going to have a shower. You… you don't need one, I guess."

"I guess," Renee said, looking at her hands. "Do you… do you have a mirror, though?"

"Here," Susan said, handing her a full-length one that she kept by her bed for the rare times she bothered with make-up.

Renee stood up, and stared at her reflection. Susan watched sympathetically as the young girl carefully felt her face, watching her doppelganger in the mirror do the same.

"Do you… feel… any different?" Susan asked cautiously.

"Cold. I feel cold," Renee said. "And sort of… I don't know. It's like I'm touching…. You know how it is when your arm goes to sleep, and then you touch yourself? It's like someone else is touching you, but it's you touching you?"

Susan nodded. "Yeah. Sort of odd. Is it tingly?"

"No, not tingly, just… just sort of like I'm not really here," Renee said, fading slightly. She sighed, and became fully opaque again. "Everything looks normal," she muttered. "I look solid enough, I feel solid enough. But why am I so pale?" She looked closely into the mirror and gasped. "My eyes! What happened to my eyes?"

"What do you mean?" Susan asked.

"Take a look," Renee said.

Susan bent down low, and her own huge blue eyes opened wide. "They're pure white!" she said. "I mean, pure white. No iris, no pupil, nothing! Wow, that looks freaky!"

"But I can still see you," Renee said. "I mean, I can still see normally and everything. So what's with my eyes?"

Susan shook her head. "I really don't know," she said, shrugging. "Maybe Doc'll know. Anyway, I need to grab a shower," she added, standing up and holding her sheet around her. "I've got class this morning, and if I'm late, Monger'll get really mad. See you in ten minutes." With a quick smile, the giantess headed into her bathroom.

When she was alone, Renee continued looking at herself in the mirror from as many angles as she could reach. "Everything looks normal," she asked, poking and prodding various bits of her anatomy. "How can I be a ghost?"

Gingerly, she put out her hand towards the mirror. It went straight through. Renee drew a quick breath, but held her hand there, looking at where her wrist vanished into the glass. She moved it back and forth, then swept her hand right through the mirror to the edge. Then she pulled it out and looked at it, feeling it with her other hand. She pinched the fleshy part of her palm between her fingers, and winced. "Ow. That hurt."

Then she swung her arm at the mirror slowly, then faster and faster. Finally she started attacking the mirror in a frenzy, each blow going straight through it, before collapsing on the desk, sobbing as she vanished from sight.

"Hey, Renee, you still here?" Susan asked as she stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, a massive towel draped loosely around her torso. "Renee?"

"I'm here," came Renee's soft voice. "Where else would I be? I got nowhere to go."

"Hey, you okay?" Susan asked, looking around to see where the girl might be. She dropped her towel and slipped on a clean pair of panties, then her bra, before getting into her standard dark grey uniform.

"I'm dead. You don't get much less okay than that," Renee shot back. "I'm dead, my father's dead, I got thrown out of my home, and I can't fucking touch anything!" she finished in a shriek. "Why aren't I properly dead? Why am I hanging around as a ghost? Why?"

"Come on, maybe the Doc and Xalthy have some answers," Susan said, deciding to be practical. She shivered as Renee partially materialized. "Including to why it always gets so damned cold when you appear."

"I don't feel it," Renee said dully. "I don't feel anything. I can't feel anything!" She held up her hands, looking at them. "I can even see right through them."

"There's a lot my hands can't do either," Susan said, squatting down by her desk, bringing her head closer to Renee's level. "I have to have things specially made, like my phone, my reading tablet. I can't hold anyone's hand, ever again, or even hug someone."

"You can still touch things, move things, carry things," Renee said.

"Big things, yeah. Like a crane. And I can smash things, crush them. I'm very good at crushing things," Susan said, her voice dropping. "Very good." She looked at her fingers, gently flexing them. "You might not have enough strength, but I have too much. Neither of us can really interact with the real, normal world."

"It's not the same at all," Renee said.

"Maybe, I guess," Susan said. "But I do sort of understand. And sympathize."

"I don't need sympathy," Renee spat. "I need a body!"

Susan shook her head, then stood up. "I'm sorry, Renee. I really am. But there's honestly nothing I can do. Look, let's go and have breakfast, and maybe you'll feel better."

"I doubt it," Renee said.

"Well, you never know," Susan said. "I mean, I know the food isn't that bad. Hey, would you like some chocolate?"

"Chocolate?" Renee asked, perking up.

"Here," Susan said, taking down a nearly-finished Ginormibar. She broke off the smallest piece she could, which was still larger than Renee' fist, and held it out to the ghost.

Renee tried to hold it, but her hand went right through. She swore.

"Perhaps if you try eating it directly?" Susan suggested, holding it lower.

Renee leaned over and attempted to take a bite. "Fuck!" she shouted. She swiped her arm at the chocolate, her hand going straight through. "I can see it, I can smell it, but I can't fucking taste it!"

"Maybe the army's come up with something you can eat," Susan suggested, popping the chocolate into her mouth. "Come on. Let's go and see. Would you like a lift?" she added, thrusting out her hand.

Renee shook her head, quickly backing away from Susan's gigantic hand, as long as she was tall. "I can't, remember? I can't touch anything!"

"Renee! Watch out!" Susan called as the young girl kept backing up, right to the edge of the desk. She lunged forwards, then gasped as Renee continued walking backwards, with nothing underneath her feet but thin air.

"Renee! You're—you're…."

"Holy crap!" Renee gasped, looking down. She was hovering in the air, three feet away from the edge of the giant desk and two dozen feet off the floor.

Susan stopped, her hand ready to catch Renee, and stared. "Wow. Okay. Um..."

"I can… float?" Renee asked nervously, taking a step forwards. She walked ahead perfectly normally, except that her feet were nowhere near the floor.

"It's like… it's like one of those old Roadrunner cartoons, where the coyote runs off the edge of a cliff and doesn't notice it," Susan said softly, standing to her full height.

"I… I don't understand. How can this—whoops!" The ghost dropped about ten feet suddenly, then stopped and slowly rose. "I can… I think I can fly," she breathed, her pale bluish skin glowing softly. She rose up higher, to Susan's eye level. "Hey, tall girl."

"Hey yourself," Susan smiled. "Wow."

Renee looked down, and gasped. She faltered and dropped for a few seconds before she recovered and flew back up, breathing heavily. "Fuck, that's a long way down!"

Susan laughed. "You get used to it. Actually it looks normal to me. Everything else just looks smaller. Come on."

The two of them headed out to the main room, and Susan took her seat.

"Good morning, my dear," Cockroach said, heading down the steps from his lab. "Sleep well?"

"Not too bad," Susan replied. "Hey, Doc, Renee can fly!"

"Fly? Good heavens," Cockroach looked up at the ghost, who was slowly circling around the room. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, after all. Since her interactions with the material plane are not based on physics, I suppose it stands to reason she doesn't actually need a floor to walk on. Susan, my dear, I suspect very much that this form of Renee we can see is not her true form."

"You mean she's not human?" Susan gasped. "Wait—you think she might be an alien?"

Cockroach shook his head. "Not at all. I simply mean that Renee, as she is now, has no form we would recognise at all, but takes this form because it is how she sees herself."

"Huh. You think she can change shape?"

"As to that, I would be somewhat surprised. One of our most fundamental concepts is our concept of self-image, of who we are. I should know—it took me quite some time to accept this relatively minor change," he said, gesturing vaguely towards his head. "Ah, good morning my dear," he added as Renee drifted down towards them.

"Did you see me?" the girl asked excitedly. "I was flying! I can fly!"

"So can Insecto, but you don't see her going on about it," Link said, rubbing his neck as he joined them. "What a night. That damn pumpkin thing beat me up pretty bad. Might go and see the doc later. Not you, you quack," he added, shooting a grin at Cockroach, who merely raised an eyebrow. "You okay, Suze?"

Susan nodded. "I'm fine. I had a couple of bruises and scratches last night, but they're all gone now."

"Sweet. I wish I could take a pounding like you." Link sat down and nursed his cup of jot fish juice.

"Can I take a pounding? Are we having poundings now?" Bob asked. "Is that like pound cake? Where's the pound cake you took? Was it mine? Did you take my pound cake? Why'd you take my pound cake?"

"This is a really weird room," Renee said, floating near Susan's head and looking around. "I didn't get much chance to see it last night. Everything's so huge!"

"Designed for my, uh, scale," Susan said, going slightly pinkish. "All those yellow couch seats around the sides, they're for me, since that's my height. Everyone's rooms are around the walls, along those raised platforms running around the room behind my couches. That strange wooden thing over there is Bob's jungle gym, so he can ooze around; that's Doc's library and lab on top of that tall platform in the middle; and over there is on the other side is Link's pool area."

"Hey, sweet!" Renee exclaimed. "You got a waterfall! Rocks, trees!"

"Yeah, it is pretty sweet," Link called up. "You want a dip? It's heated."

Renee shook her head. "I, er, I don't have a bathing suit," she said.

Link shrugged. "Nor do I. Nor does Suze. She still swims."

"You swim in that?" Renee gasped, looking at the fifty-foot woman. "How?"

Susan laughed. "I could barely use that puddle to wash my feet! No, there's a small lake in the hills topside. That's where we go swimming."

"So if you don't have a bathing suit, what do you wear?" Renee asked.

Susan turned a bright shade of pink. "Nothing," she admitted, and Renee's eyes went wide.

"Nothing? You go skinny-dipping?"

"Well, there's no other humans around," Susan explained.

"Yeah, I'm not human," Link added.

"Wait—you go swimming naked with him?" Renee gasped. "Are you two… you know…?"

Link and Susan exchanged quick glances, and both burst out laughing.

"No, no, nothing remotely like that!" Susan said quickly. "God, no!"

"Not a chance! She's the wrong size, wrong colour, and wrong species," Link added. "No, she and the Doc, they're the ones who're all smoochy with each other."

"The Doc? You mean the cockroach man?" Renee asked, shuddering. "Are you serious? Gross!"

"He's a genius," Susan said, a slight edge to her voice. "He's also kind, considerate, educated, helpful, and has the most wonderful amber eyes. Plus he's got abs you wouldn't believe."

"I should also mention that I am, or rather was, human too," Cockroach said, his antennae vibrating rapidly at all the compliments. "Both Susan and I have been transformed from perfectly normal human beings, just as you have. Link was never human to begin with."

"Still, aren't you embarrassed, being naked in front of a guy?" Renee asked. "I mean, he's a guy, right?"

"Yeah, and have you noticed he's stark naked too?" Susan responded. "If we don't think that's weird, having a guy walk around nude, well, that's how he sees us when we're nude."

Renee looked over at Link, and shrugged. "I guess so. I mean, if a guy, a human guy that is, was walking around here starkers, I suppose that'd be really weird. This one's just so... He's like an animal."

"Thanks," Link shot back.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you," Renee said quickly, fading slightly. "I'm just not… I'm not used to all you…."

"Monsters. Yeah, you're going to be, though. Since you're one of us now."

"One of us! One of us!" Bob chanted.

"Stop that, Bob," Susan told him, squashing him flat under her palm when he didn't shut up.

The chime sounded, and the food hatch opened. Susan released Bob and took out her bowl of oatmeal and cup of tea.

"Yay, it's breakfast!" Bob called out. "Hey, why do we have to break so fast? What happens if we break slow?"

"It's not speed, Bob," Cockroach told him as he took his seat. "A fast is when you don't eat."

"Not eat? How can anyone not eat?"

Cockroach looked at the meals on the serving tray, then over at Renee, who had followed Susan to her eating area and was looking around with a mixture of expectation and nervousness. "I… I'm afraid there doesn't appear to be anything for you, my dear," he said.

"No breakfast? What am I going to eat?" Renee gasped.

"Er, well, I assume nothing. That is to say, that as you're, well, dead, so to speak, you don't, er, actually need to eat."

"Mary was dead, and she ate," Susan quickly pointed out. "Or drank, at least."

"Mary was corporeal, my dear," Cockroach replied. "She had a physical body. Poor Renee, er, does… not."

"So I have to starve? What kind of place is this?" Renee asked, in a voice that was almost a shout.

"Ummm…. Are you actually hungry?" Cockroach asked.

Renee blinked. "Well, you know, now that you mention it…. No. I guess I'm not actually hungry."

"Precisely," Cockroach said, taking a satisfied bite out of a piece of mouldy cardboard.

"You mean I'll never eat again?" Renee gasped, and turned translucent.

Susan held out her hand to pat her on the back, then hesitated. "It'll be okay. I'm sure the Doc'll find some way you can have food."

Cockroach looked dubious. "It's possible," he admitted. "There's very little the proper application of plutonium can't achieve. Once I know more about what exactly you are…."

"I'm a ghost, aren't I?" Renee asked.

"Yes, but what exactly is a ghost?" Cockroach replied. "I've been up most of the night researching ghosts, spectres, apparitions, and sundry manifestations of the spirit, but there are so many conflicting reports it's very hard to make sense of them."

"So what do you know?" Susan asked.

"Well, there are some universal, unifying elements," Cockroach said. "Variable visibility, often an inability to touch, though some can, poltergeists especially; ability to float or fly, pass through walls…. There seem to be two broad types: historical ghosts, and personal ghosts."

"What's the difference?"

"Historical ghosts are ghosts of people who died a long time ago. They don't actively haunt a place, in terms of interacting with their environment. They're passive, like watching a film. One famous example is the Roman ghosts of York. Roman soldiers parade through a cellar in the old Treasurer's House there, coming in from one wall and out another. And the fascinating thing is, they seem to have no lower legs, because they're walking on the old Roman road, beneath the cellar floor."

"Oooh! Roman soldiers marching through eternity! That does sound scary!" Bob said, looking pale.

Susan shivered. "For once, Bob, I agree with you. That does sound scary."

"Yes, well, these appear to be displaced temporal shades," Cockroach said. "Imprints of the past. We cannot interact with them, and they do not interact with us or the modern environment in any way. They're not sentient apparitions. Some researchers consider them to be the product of what they called 'stone tape.' Which is when the environment itself somehow acts as a recording mechanism. Of course, these days, we'd probably say 'stone DVD' or 'stone memory card'…."

"Yeah, yeah. And the other sort?" Renee asked.

"The personal ghost," Cockroach explained. "These are the spirits of the departed, and are sentient. They interact with the living, often with their environment, and can sometimes be communicated with."

"Like we are with you," Link added to Renee dryly. "Hey, hey, what's the matter, girl? What did I say?"

"Nothing," Renee said, wiping her eyes. "Nothing. I'm just…. My life is over."

"It sure is!" Bob agreed. "Happy Deathday!"

"Bob! You are _not_ helping!" Susan hissed. She gave Renee a small smile. "Your life isn't over. In fact, it's just beginning. You know, that's one thing becoming a monster has taught me—the only limits to your life are the ones you make for yourself. I mean, look at me. This time six months ago I was just plain old Susan Murphy, about to get married to a loser."

"Derek Dietl, yeah," Renee said, a slight smile playing about her lips. "I know."

"I guess you'd have heard about that, yeah," Susan said. She sighed. "I used to be so in love with him, you know. Sure, he wasn't perfect, but I had no idea I could do so much better. And that's the whole point. I was this sheltered, limited girl whose biggest ambition in life was to marry her handsome high school sweetheart, happy to be defined by other people. I never expected anything of me beyond that. Hell, nobody ever expected anything of me beyond that. And then this… this happened to me. Sure, it was really, really hard to cope with at first. It cost me a lot. I lost my dreams, I lost my innocence, I lost my freedom. But you know what? I found something even more important. I found myself."

"Oh, Susan, my dear, that's so lovely," Cockroach said, gazing up at her with admiring eyes as Link tried to stifle a laugh by drinking his coffee very quickly, and ending up choking as he tried very hard to pretend he was just clearing his throat. Susan scowled at him.

"Yes, well. Indeed. Time to head off to class, I think," Cockroach quickly noted. "You don't want to be late, do you?"

"What do I do?" Renee asked as Susan finished off her tea. "Do I have to come as well?"

"No, I mean, I don't think so," Susan said, putting her mug down.

"So what am I going to do all day?"

"Read a book?" Cockroach suggested.

Renee held up her hands. "Without being able to turn the pages?"

"My apologies, my dear," Cockroach said. "I'll… I'll set up a film for you to watch. Any requests?"

"A movie? Uh, I don't know. Wait, do you have 'How to Train Your Dragon'?"

"Training a dragon?" Cockroach asked. "Is it a documentary?"

"No, it isn't, and yes, we do," Susan said. "You know, Doc. The one I was watching the other week, and you made those snarky comments about the accents."

"Oh yes, that one," Cockroach said. "Yes, I remember. Scottish parents and American children in a Viking village. Naturally…. Very well, I can set that up, easily. You head off, my dear, and I'll see you later."

"Okay. Renee, you'll be fine. Really. Things are so much better here than they used to be. So don't worry."

Susan watched as Renee followed Cockroach to his lab, hoping that things really would turn out better for the scared young girl than they had for her. She vowed to herself that as long as she was there, she would do everything she could to keep Renee safe and happy, to be the next best thing to family for the lonely orphan girl.

...

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** The Roman ghosts mentioned here are real, at least in the sense that the reports of them are real. I don't actually believe in ghosts any more than I believe in vampires or giants or any of the other monsters (to say nothing of invading aliens), but ghost stories can still be an fun and chilling read. The stuff about stone tapes is also true as far as it goes. Does anyone use tape for recording anything these days?

Since Susan was not given much clothing at the start, it does seem she would have had to either sleep in her jumpsuit, or sleep naked. Since she has her own private room, and sleeping in clothes is never much fun, I chose the latter. As you can see from my DeviantArt illustration of her and the Doc in her tent in DC. So this bit just explains that a little more.

Ghosts seem pretty usually able to fly, so I've given her that ability. I have no idea if they can smell, however. They can of course see, but would something unable to touch also be unable to smell—the molecules would have to hit the nasal sensor receptors, implying a physical presence. Since ghosts can clearly hear without a physical eardrum to vibrate with sound waves, let's just fudge this issue a bit, shall we?

The description of the common room is based on a very careful watch of the common room scene in Mutant Pumpkins. When Monger flies up to admonish Susan, behind him you can see, very out of focus, a nice pool and rocks area for Link. I have actually started working on a proper layout plan for their room, and am stuck about where to put the TV….

The mention of How to Train Your Dragon is a bit of a shoutout to TheNightFury319, who got me watching the "Dragons" TV series, which is way better than the MvA TV series.

I finally got around to seeing "Frozen." Loved it, loved Elsa especially. So many parallels with Susan, and the character issues I love to write about. I think I know where I'll be heading after I finish this story, but I *will* finish this story. And yes, things will start happening again soon, don't worry. I just want to flesh out (sorry, Renee) the new ghost and get a bit of breathing room before things start hitting fans...


	10. The Lovely Bones

**10. The Lovely Bones**

After her training for the afternoon ended, Susan headed back to the monster command centre and lay down on her couch with a long sigh.

"You beat?" Link asked, loping over to her along one of the access platforms that ran above the couch.

"Yeah, but not physically; mentally," Susan groaned. "All this military history stuff is so, so damned boring!" She laid her giant tablet on the table carefully, as it was far weaker, relatively, than a normal tablet. She'd had to learn that she couldn't just casually toss things aside any more, as falling from her height often broke them. "Anything on TV?"

Link shrugged. "There's a 49ers game, but they're losing, so I turned it off."

"Even the cheerleaders couldn't keep you watching?" Susan asked with a grin.

"Nah. It's just not the same when I can't chase them.".

Susan laughed. "Yeah, last time, they chased you. That was hilarious. Hey, where's my remote?"

"Where you left it, by Bob's jungle gym."

"Thanks." Susan twisted around and stretched out a twenty foot-long arm. She flipped the on switch, and started cycling listlessly through the channels. Then she heard her name mentioned.

"…Ginormica's rampage throughout the peaceful town of Modesto yesterday was just another example of why the government and the military cannot be allowed to let this beast loose. In fact we have reports of a new monster, a mutated pumpkin creature that some sources are claiming is the latest military experiment, while others are pointing to it as the inevitable result of genetically modified foods. Monsanto has refused to comment. However, like the last government experiment, the creature known as Ginormica, it has already got loose and terrorized innocent people. In addition to the deaths of innocent children, these monsters have once again caused millions of dollars of property damage."

The video, a very shaky iPhone feed, showed Susan crashing down into the garage, then was replaced with a clip of the house that the head pumpkin had smashed its way out of.

The view switched to a middle-aged lady, with three children behind her.

"She came out of nowhere," the woman was saying. "No warning! This massive thing, this hideous freak of a human, was just let loose, tonight, with all our children outside! What if she'd stood on one? We all know what she did in Vegas! How dare the army do this!"

"Scenes of devastation from the latest monster rampage," the announcer added as the camera panned over flattened cars and piles of mutant pumpkin guts. "First Las Vegas, now Modesto. When will it end? When will these dangerous monsters finally be locked up for good, somewhere where they can never harm our children?"

Susan's mouth fell open. "They're… they're blaming us!?" she gasped. "But – but we stopped that thing! It wasn't a monster, it was a—a creature! A thing! An alien thing! We stopped it! How could they have thought—?"

"You seen one monster, you seen 'em all," Bob suggested.

"We're not! We're not monsters! Not like that! How dare they?" Furious, Susan kicked the base of the central command unit, leaving a large dent in the thick steel.

"I'm guessing they just want someone to blame. And we're it," Cockroach said, coming out of his quarters.

"I'm it, you mean," Susan fumed. "Look at that!" She gestured angrily towards the screen, which was still showing the news programme. The banner beneath the video read "Fear and Devastation as Ginormica Rampages Through California Town." The image was now showing her sitting down by her grandparents' home, covering her face as Monger shouted at the camera crew.

"We have unconfirmed reports that General Monger, leader of these monsters, is himself not human, but a part-alien cyborg. Has the military ceded control over these monsters to another monster? The Mayor of Modesto and the Governor of California have both stated that they intend to formally protest this use of Ginormica and the other military monsters," the announcer was saying. "The Joint Chiefs of Staff at the Pentagon have promised to review the deployment criteria for the monsters to ensure public safety and security."

Cockroach's expression changed to one of worry. "Hmm. I don't like the sound of that."

"What do you mean?" Link asked.

Cockroach shook his head, and looked away. "For the moment, I'd prefer not to say. It's probably just paranoia, after all. Change the channel, Link."

Link flipped over to another channel, which was also showing a news broadcast.

"We've had enough!" someone said on the television. Cockroach glanced around and saw an elderly man being interviewed. "The government lied to us about the Gulf of Tonkin, it lied to us about 9/11, and it lied to us about aliens! And now they're lying to us about these monsters, claiming that they're here to protect us. Call this protection?" he finished, sweeping his hand over a scene of destruction, with a road full of debris.

"If that's protection," the announcer said, "then perhaps the cure is worse than the disease. Ginormica has caused major damage each time she has been let loose: destroying the Golden Gate Bridge, wrecking a train carrying nuclear waste, laying waste to much of the Las Vegas Strip, and twice crashing huge alien craft, one of which caused extensive damage to farms on the outskirts of Modesto and the other of which belonged to a friendly species, seriously jeopardizing our planet's future security."

"I can't believe they let her out among normal people again. After all, she's locked up now for what she did in Vegas," the other reporter said. "And I say they should just throw away the key, keep her down in that so-called secret base for the rest of her life."

"I agree," the announcer said. "For the sake of all of us, and especially our children."

"Shut it off," Cockroach hissed, his face furious. Link quickly changed the channel to ESPN, and Cockroach looked up at Susan, who had her hand over her mouth.

"Oh, my dear, are you all right?" he asked.

Susan wiped her eyes, and nodded. "I guess. I should be used to this by now."

"Nobody should be used to being attacked for saving people," Cockroach told her firmly.

"Why is it always me that they attack?" Susan asked in despair. "Why me? I wasn't the only one out there the other night?"

"Well, um, there was… uh… possibly because you have been in the news more than the others," Cockroach said, choosing his words with care.

"Or hey, maybe you just stand out more," Link told her with a shrug.

"Yeah, I stand out," Susan said, tucking her knees under her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs. The position, Cockroach noted, that she often took when she was feeling vulnerable and afraid—as if she wanted to make herself as small as she could, as far away from the giantess as she could.

"I know there's not a lot I can say to comfort you," he said. "I wish there was. I wish I could pretend that this will all blow over, that none of this matters; that I could just tell you to ignore what people say about you. But it's never that easy. No one, unless they're completely sociopathic, truly does not care what others think of them. And I do know what it is like to be hated."

"We all do," Link added quietly.

Susan sniffed, and sighed deeply. "Sometimes… I mean, I think I made the right choice, I know it did—I'm not regretting my decision. I think I'm a better, stronger person for it. But sometimes… I do wonder if I would have been a happier person if I'd stayed small. If the quantonium had never come to me. Maybe not better, but… happier…."

"Please, my love, don't say that," Cockroach said.

"What about you, Jacques?" she asked, glancing down at him through tear-filled eyes. "Wouldn't you have preferred to live a normal life, without being a monster? Wouldn't you be happier?"

Cockroach looked at her, and hesitated. "I regret what I have done in the past as much as any man can regret his actions. I wish I could undo the evil I have caused. Yet I am selfish enough to know that I would not change a thing in my life, because it has brought me you."

Susan reached out a five-foot hand to Cockroach, who held it gently. She let her fingertips play over his arms, his torso, his head, barely touching him as he in turn caressed her huge fingers, each the size of his legs.

"You're what keeps me going," she whispered, bending low. "You always have been. You're my rock, my anchor, my guiding light."

"Hey Doc, you're a lighthouse!" Bob called.

"Quiet!" Link snarled. "Sorry, don't mind us! Go back to being soppy!"

Susan sat up again. "Way to ruin the mood, guys," she said, smiling slightly. "Don't worry about it." She bent down again, one hand behind Cockroach's back, and kissed his face. "And thank you, my darling sweet mad scientist."

"I hope you feel better, my love," he said.

"You make me feel better, just by being here," she told him. "What does the world matter to me? You are my world."

"And you, my love, are the supermassive black hole at the centre of my galaxy," he told her. "Uh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean supermassive in, er, that sense. I mean… you're… um…. "

"Really attractive?" Susan asked, giving him a coquettish smile. "That's very sweet. And I think—"

"Hey, Susan, can you turn my iPad on?"

Startled at the interruption, Susan turned and saw Renee drifting out of her room.

"Sure, no problem. Where is it?" she asked.

"In my room—you think I could bring it out with me?" Renee asked, holding up her useless hands.

"Sorry, I wasn't thinking," Susan said. She looked over at Cockroach, who bowed his head towards her.

"Look after our new friend," he said. "Some new and fascinating garbage has been delivered, so I shall be in my lab."

"See ya," she said with an embarrassed smile. "Don't destroy the place, okay?"

"My iPad?" Renee asked.

"Sorry, yeah." Standing up, Susan bent over and pressed her fingertip against the door activation plate for Renee's room. The door hissed upwards, and she peered in. "Hey, it looks pretty nice. That's really cosy."

"I guess," Renee said with a shrug. "The army works fast, I'll admit. They did it while you were in school. It's not quite the same, of course, but… well, pretty much everything's there. It'll do. It's still a bit weird, what with the sloping walls and everything, but I guess it's better than it was."

"You're lucky everything's still the right size for you," Susan said, the faintest trace of envy in her voice.

"And you're lucky you can touch things," Renee shot back. "My iPad, please."

"Sorry," Susan said. She spotted the device sitting on Renee's desk, and gently pinched it between her finger and thumb to pick it up. Placing it carefully in her other palm, she used the edge of her little fingernail to press the power button.

"Thanks," Renee said. "Can you open up iTunes?"

Susan looked down at the icon, a fraction the size of her fingertip. "Jacques, could you help, please?" she called.

"Of course, my dear," Cockroach said, scuttling down the steps and over to them. "How may I be of assistance to two lovely young ladies?"

"We need some delicate fingers," Susan explained, holding the iPad out between her fingertips. "Renee can't touch it, and my hands are too big."

"Great whacking man hands, yeah," Link joked. "Times a million."

"They are not!" Susan retorted. "For the last time, I do not have man-hands! I'm a girl, petite and sweet! Got it, buster?" she finished, grabbing Link in her huge hand and holding him at her eye level as she glared at him. He stared back at her for a few seconds, then burst out laughing as Susan set him down again.

"What's so funny?" Renee demanded.

"Nothing," Link said. "It's just that it took Miss Hands here a while to adjust to not being so petite any more."

"Maybe, but I'm still sweet," Susan grinned. Then her expression turned serious. "Look, Renee, it's not your size, or your shape, that determine what you are. It's what you feel inside. When I'm nice, I'm nice because it's how I feel. When I'm… not nice, it's also because of how I feel, not what I look like, or how big and strong I am."

"Is this the program you wanted open, my child?" Cockroach asked, holding the tablet so that Renee could see it.

"Yeah, that's the one. And please don't call me a child," Renee said. "I'm not."

"Ah, um, of course not, my dear."

"And knock that off too."

"The, uh… my dear? I was only trying to be polite, my… uh, Renee."

"Yeah, well, you sound sexist and patronising," Renee told him. "I'm not your _dear_."

"Hey, Renee, Doc's not trying to be rude. He's English, and grew up in a different society," Susan said.

"Maybe, but it sounds weird to me," Renee said. "Who the hell speaks like that these days?"

"I hope… I hope you never found it offensive, my… Susan," Cockroach said, looking at her nervously.

"I found it really sweet," she told him with a broad smile, caressing his antennae. "You're like some old-time courtier from a fairy tale, or something by Jane Austen. I think it's very romantic."

"Romantic, him?" Link scoffed.

"Yes, him," Susan said firmly. "And you don't need to know just how romantic he can be. Oh, Jacques, is there some way you could fix up Renee's tablet so she could work it herself?"

"Why, I, er, I'm sure a voice-operated application would not be too hard. I do have some experience in computer programming, after all. Yes, it shouldn't be too hard. I'll have to borrow somebody's iPad, however. No, not yours, my dear—uh, Renee. I shall obtain one through my own, er, channels."

"Great, I'm glad all that's settled," Susan said happily. "Won't that be great, Renee, being able to use your iPad whenever you like?"

"It'll be an improvement, I guess," the young girl said. "Thanks, Doc. I owe you one," she added, looking sideways at the scientist.

"In the meantime, I would like to run a few further tests on you, if you don't mind," Cockroach said.

Renee shuddered, and faded slightly. "I don't like tests. I don't like doctors."

"Why ever not, my… why ever not, Renee?" Cockroach asked. "They're just there to help you, make things better."

"They pretend they can help you. They pretend they know what they're doing. And then they can't do a thing, and someone dies," Renee said sullenly. "They don't make things better. They didn't make my mother better."

"I am so sorry, Renee," Susan said, as Cockroach's antennae drooped.

"Indeed. I never meant to… to…" Cockroach said softly.

Renee shrugged. "Yeah, I guess not. I just don't like doctors."

"Would it help if I said I wasn't that kind of doctor?" Cockroach asked. "I'm not a medical doctor, I'm a scientist."

"A mad scientist," Link added, not looking up from his newspaper.

"Do you mind?" Susan shot back. "Look, Renee, he's not a medical doctor, he's a—a genius doctor, and he would never hurt you. Ever. I promise."

"What does he want to test, then?" Renee asked, looked suspiciously at Cockroach.

"Just some simple physical parameters," Cockroach explained. "Radiation signatures, heat, energy output. To see why the air gets so cold when you, uh, materialize. To see if there isn't some way we can transform your energy into kinetic motion—let you move or touch things. That sort of thing."

"And these won't hurt?" Renee asked.

"Absolutely not," Cockroach said. "Totally passive scans. That is, I'm not even going to expose you to any high-powered electromagnetic radiation."

"You better not! Radiation? Are you trying to kill me?"

"Shut it, Link!" Susan snapped as the fish-ape chuckled from behind his newspaper. "Renee, electromagnetic radiation just means things like infrared or radio waves."

"Precisely, my dear," Cockroach said, beaming at his pupil. "All I want to do is understand what you are, so we can help you adjust and cope."

Renee looked up at Susan. "Will.. will you stay with me?"

Susan nodded. "Of course. Don't worry. I'll be with you as long as you want."

* * *

Renee spent the next night in her own room, but did not appear for breakfast. In response to Cockroach's polite inquiry, she simply stated that she was sleeping in. Susan had an essay to read before her next class, so after the morning meal she lay back down on her sofa to tackle it. The topic, the role of leadership in the modern military, was not entirely holding her interest, and she let her mind wander. She found herself thinking about their new companion, wondering what was going through her mind. She thought back to her first days here, and how distraught she had been. In some ways, she realized, Renee was handling this better than she had. Perhaps it helped to have no one left on the outside, no life to return to….

"Hey, Susan. Can I ask you something?"

The giantess turned, spotting Renee standing on the living platform. "Morning, Renee. How are you? What's the problem?"

"Have they… uh, decided a date?"

"Sorry, a date for?"

"Dad's… my father's funeral."

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Susan said, taking her seat. "Uh, the General told me it'll be tomorrow evening, in the base chapel."

"Why here? Why not in Modesto?" Renee asked. "Then my friends could come too."

"Not sure," Susan admitted. She looked over at the lab area, where Cockroach was quietly working with some brightly-glowing chemicals that gently bubbled and popped even though they weren't boiling. "Doc? Do you know why?"

"I'm afraid that the general had to bring your father's body back here for an autopsy," Cockroach explained.

"What? I don't want him chopped up!" Renee gasped, glowing bright with rage.

"Er, an autopsy is pretty standard, my dear," Cockroach said, startled by the sudden burst of light. "It's important to determine the exact, ah, cause of… um..."

"Death," Renee spat. "You just want to see if he was killed by the aliens. Of course he was! So was I! I suppose you collected my bones too and are studying them in your secret labs! Admit it!"

"Uh, I, er, I…" Cockroach stammered, coming down to join them. "I assure you, my dear, we are treating your remains with the greatest possible respect."

"Come on, Renee, we couldn't just leave your father there," Susan said. "Or, um, you… I mean, your, er, remains. The Doc'll make sure they're taken care of very carefully. I know he will."

"Oh indeed, without question," Cockroach said, looking up at the giantess with an expression of sorrow on his face. "And we will have a proper funeral service for him, I assure you," he added to Renee.

Renee looked down at her black dress. "Guess I'm already dressed for it." She sighed. "Dad said I should wear this on Halloween, when serving customers. I was supposed to look like a little witch girl. I ditched the hat, though. That was silly."

"It's actually not a bad dress, you know," Susan said. "I'm sure your father thought you looked very cute in it."

"I didn't," Renee said in a distant voice. "I hated it. And now it's all I have, for the rest of my life. Or my death…." She fiddled with the hem for a few moments, then looked up at Susan. "Did he mention... I mean, did the General mention anything about, you know, _my_, um... funeral?"

"Oh!" Susan put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. "I—I don't know. I didn't ask. I… I'm not sure there'll actually be one."

"Why not?" Renee demanded.

"Well, because you're still… still sort of alive. Mostly. I guess. I'm sorry, Renee, I really don't know. I don't get to make those decisions."

Renee wiped her eyes. "I suppose you're right. I am sort of mostly alive. I think. I see. I talk. I just don't eat or breathe or anything." She wrapped her arms around her, rocking gently back and forth. "And I can't touch anything, or anyone…."

"All right, what are you two moping about?" Monger asked as he landed on the platform and retracted his lifting jets into his torso. "Can't stand moping. Makes my… uh, my pistons stick."

"We're not moping," Renee muttered sullenly.

"Uh, General, were you going to have any sort of, um, memorial service for Renee?" Susan asked.

"What for? She's not dead. That is, she's not totally dead."

"Well, can I at least see myself?" Renee asked, staring at him.

"Sure. Got a mirror, Ginormica?"

"No, I mean see my… remains," Renee said. "I need to see them."

"Yeah, she needs some sort of closure, General," Susan told him. "And she wants to see her father, too."

Monger scratched his chin, then nodded. "Very well. I was going to talk to Cockroach about something, but it can wait. Follow me."

"Susan? You coming?" Renee asked as Monger lifted off.

"If you want me to, of course."

A short while later, Susan and Renee followed Monger into a large, well-lit room. It reminded Susan a great deal of the room she had discovered Nancy Archer's remains in, and she felt some unpleasant memories stirring, rising up from her subconscious. She pushed them down again, and concentrated on looking after Renee. This couldn't be easy for her. Susan remembered how she had felt when her maternal grandmother died a few years ago—she couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose a parent. Let alone two.

"General Monger sir!"

A young doctor saluted as Monger landed.

"Dr Galen?" the general asked.

"General? How may I be of assistance?"

"Where are the remains of Miss Geist?"

The doctor pointed. "Over there, sir. On that table. I've never seen such a neat job of excarnation—it's really quite lovely."

"Are you ready for this, Renee?" Susan whispered.

"I guess so," came the reply.

Susan looked around, but couldn't see the young girl. "It's okay," she whispered to the air. "You can stay invisible. Sometimes I wish I could," she added as Galen stared up at her. She gave him a nervous little wave with her fingers, and bent down carefully to the table he had pointed to. It was covered with a black velvet cloth, and lying on it, carefully arranged, was a small human skeleton, the pale bones stark against the dark fabric.

"Is… is that me?" Renee's voice whispered in her ear.

"I guess so," Susan replied quietly.

"What have you found out?" Monger asked the doctor.

"Well, sir, with Dr Cockroach's help, I've been working on a way to scan for any non-human residue—we think that if she was killed by the aliens, as seems likely, then there should be some energy signature in her bones."

"Do you know how she was killed?" Monger asked.

Galen shook his head. "Some form of extremely high-intensity radiation that just disintegrated her flesh instantly, leaving her bones unmarked. No idea what, yet, sir. We had a team out by the farm, scanning the soil for anything. We found a few anomalies, but no idea yet what they mean."

"But they are alien?"

"Oh yes, sir. Nothing matches any known energy signatures from Earth. And there's no correlation with Ginormica's readings either—whatever did this, it wasn't anything like quantonium."

"I could have told you that," Susan said. "I mean, Renee's not nearly fifty feet tall, after all."

Galen glanced towards the skeleton. "Poor child. To be killed so young." He looked back at Monger. "We're treating her remains, and her father's, with full respect and honour, sir. As you ordered."

"Good," Susan said, shifting to a kneeling position. "Because Renee wouldn't like it if you didn't."

"Yeah, because I might decide to haunt you," Renee's voice added, and Galen jumped.

A sudden drop in temperature signified that Renee was turning visible again. The dead girl materialized standing right behind the doctor, who shivered and moved away nervously. Renee snorted, and drifted over to the table. She put out her hand, her fingers nearly touching her skull, then snatched it back.

"Strange," she said. "To think that that's me, lying there. It doesn't seem real, Susan. Not real at all."

"I'm not surprised," Susan said. "I mean, it's bones. It doesn't look like you. It could be anyone's bones."

"It's not, I assure you," Galen said quickly. "DNA testing confirms her identity."

"I didn't mean that," Susan explained. "Renee, do you want some time alone?"

The ghost shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't feel… anything, really. It's just bones. Like some a dog dug up from the yard. It's not me. I'm here, I'm this… not that."

"Are you all right?" Susan asked.

Renee looked up, and gave her a slight smile. "I actually feel a lot better, thanks. I don't know what I am, but I know those bones aren't me."

"Would… would you care to see your father?" Galen asked. "We have, er, made him presentable. He looks, uh, normal now."

Renee glanced up at Susan.

"Only if you feel up to it," Susan told her.

"I think I do. I think I should see him," Renee said softly.

"This way, Miss," Galen said, leading them to a large set of cabinets to one side. He opened one, and slid out a drawer. A figure lay on it, covered in a white silk sheet. "Are you sure?" he asked Renee.

The girl nodded. "I want to see him. I need to."

Galen glanced at Monger, who nodded. Susan shifted her legs awkwardly, trying not to bump into anything. Then the doctor lifted the sheet, and Renee suddenly vanished.

"Renee? Renee sweetie, it's okay," Susan called. "Renee?"

"I'm here," Renee replied, and Susan could make out a pale, flickering form standing beside Farmer Jeb's head. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Take all the time you need," Galen told her. "I'll be over there, waiting."

"Fine," Renee said, not looking up. Stretching out a ghostly hand, she tried to caress her father's cheek, but her fingers just skittered through his skin. "Oh Daddy…. I miss you so much. I love you. I'm sorry I yelled at you about this stupid dress. I shouldn't have got mad at you. I suppose you're in Heaven now, with Mommy. If you are, I wonder if you know I'm dead, too? Maybe you're wondering why I'm not up there with you. Do you think I'm in Hell? Please Daddy, don't think that. God, please don't him think that. I'm still here, Daddy. I'm here, but I'm going to join you soon. And then we'll all be together; you, me, and Mommy. It'll be just like it used to be, and we'll be happy again. I promise. I promise, Daddy. Daddy…."

...

* * *

**WORD'S NOTES**: The title's a blatant pinch, but I've justified it in context. I hope.

"I'm a girl, petite and sweet!" is from the MvA video game – playthroughs of which are available on YouTube. This is from the introductory bit. The game itself doesn't actually look that interesting, but does confirm (assuming it's at all canon, which I rather doubt—but perhaps the intro part can be) that the common room walls are made of thick steel. However they appear to be concrete in the new room in the Mutant Pumpkins short.

Dr Galen is named after Galen, the Roman physician who was one of the most influential medical researchers in history. No reason for this name. I just like referencing real history and facts….

"Excarnation" is the practice of removing flesh from bone, usually for burial.

And, having given Renee some closure, we can start to move on with the main plot. I hope it won't be too long before the next chapter—I am seriously busy these days, and okay, I admit, I'm reading too much _Frozen_ fanfic, and have even started writing my own. But Susan remains my favourite, and I won't neglect her. Or any of my readers that haven't already decamped to Arendelle….

**REPLY to Dlh024:**

1. Yes, we most certainly are going to see new aliens. They will play a key role in the plot, don't worry.

2. Seen Meatballs 1, not 2 yet. No particular desire to do any fics on them though: they just didn't have any characters I connected with enough. After this, I'm going to be doing some things for _Frozen_, actually. Elsa is the most fascinating animated character I've seen since Susan, and I really want to explore her.

3. Ummm. Not quite. There is no "energy released from our bodies when we die," still less "energy" that is drawn to other people or places (you can't just toss around the term "energy" like it's some mysterious plasma or ether: there are all sorts of different energies, and physicists have good ways of detecting and measuring them-"energy signature" like in this story is just an SF trope I've used). You may be referring to some famous experiments conducted over a hundred years ago which weighed a few people immediately before and after death, and sometimes recorded a minute difference, which was explained at the time as being the soul leaving the body. All attempts to reproduce these methodologically unsound test results have failed, however.


End file.
